Owls and OWLs
Harry jolted awake. It was instant, startling, and more than anything uncomfortable, like being jolted out of sleep by an alarm, jarring, leaving him with no idea of how long had passed. Every part of his body hurt. He felt like he had been trampled over by a herd of centaurs, his whole body ached like it had never ached before.
He forced his eyes open, the eyelids crusted together. Bright light burst through to his eyes and he slammed them shut again, the brightness blinding. He rolled himself onto his side, facing away from where he thought the light was. His muscles screamed in protest and sent shooting pain through his body, a light blanket sliding over him as he turned.
He cracked his eyes open again, the light was better now, no longer lancing into his eyes. He was staring at a large wooden chest; it looked like it would hold clothes. Why would that be there? He opened his mouth, his voice rasping out of his too dry throat. “Nurse.”
If he was alive, he should be in St Mungo’s. He clearly wasn’t. The wooden plaster walls and wooden floors were a far cry from the sterile modern look of the hospital. The only reason he could think of for that was that he had been in a coma or some other non-vital state of recovery. He tried again, his throat grating as he attempted to call out louder. “Nurse!”
Still, no one came. His eyes were fully adjusted to the light now, no longer squinting into the room and he rolled over slowly, careful to not stress his sore muscles, to get a look at the rest of the room. Thick wooden beams supported the floor above, definitely not in St Mungo’s. He glanced around the rest of the room, it was a simple living space. Other than the chest there was little furniture, a barely cushioned chair and wooden desk, piled high with overworn books, faded spines and fraying covers visible even from the bed. There was a bedside table with a ceramic mug sitting on top of it and on the wall he was now facing a large window that was the source of all the light.
The window allowed him to look out over the landscape, sharp rocks and crags jutted out of the terrain, occasional dense groves of trees frequently scattered about. The outside was far less interesting to him then the nearby mug. He propped himself up against the wooden headboard and reached out to grab it, checking inside. Thank Merlin it was full of water. He greedily gulped it down, some of the warm water spilling out onto his chest, feeling delightfully cool.
Now that he realized it, he was extremely hot. The blanket now around his legs was completely soaked with his sweat. He was also starving. He just had to find someone to get him some water, food, and his wand. He moved slowly to avoid hurting himself like he had the first time he had rolled over and pulled the blanket off him, swinging his legs off the side of the bed.
Slowly putting weight on them he was pleasantly surprised to find them able to hold his weight. The fact that he had survived that attack in the courtroom was a miracle, the fact that he had done it with seemingly no adverse effects was even crazier. He carefully walked to the door and pulled it open revealing a hallway. “Nurse?”
He still received no response and deliberately moved down the hallway, one hand pressed against the wall to stabilize him as he still felt off balance. The end of the hallway opened up into a kitchen. He went immediately to the sink, drinking straight from the faucet to satisfy his thirst. After a few moments of unrestrained chugging of water, he had drunk enough to be calmer about his movements. He pulled open one of the cupboards to grab a mug, guessing the correct one on the first try and filling it up. Sitting down at the table he noticed what he had failed to see in his original hurry.
There was a wand on the table, as well as a copy of the Daily Prophet. Harry grabbed the wand, warmth spreading through him from contact with the focus. It wasn’t a particularly good match, and he was being incredibly rude by taking someone else’s wand. But he didn’t think anyone would judge him for needing to have a wand right after someone tried to kill him.
He flipped over the newspaper to the front page, only to stare at the headline. CHAOS AT THE 1974 WORLD CUP. SYRIA WINS!! That couldn’t be right, he checked the date on the top corner, July 25th, 1974. Suddenly he felt a wave of dizziness and nausea hit him with force. He stood up, the chair falling over behind him and stumbled towards the first door he saw and stumbled in, praying for a toilet. He shoved it open and was greeted not with the sight of a bathroom, but two people, a man and a woman lying in a bed, paler than any living person had a right to be, sightless eyes staring at the ceiling.
He turned around to stumble back out only to see a dressing table with a mirror attached to it. That couldn’t be him. That wasn’t him. The hair looked right, black as black could be, but the face was all wrong, he’d always had a thin face but now his features were much squarer, a wider face and stronger jaw. The most shocking thing to him however was his eyes, always his mother’s eyes, the vibrant green orbs now gone, replaced with light blue. He reached up and touched the unfamiliar features, the man in the mirror doing the same. He swayed back and forth, then bent over and threw up all over the floor.
Harry sat at the kitchen table, reading through the small book in his hands. After he had emptied the contents of his stomach onto the floor, he had tried to run out of the house only to find the exterior door sealed, he had pulled out the wand he grabbed and was about to blow the door off its hinges, only to stop himself. He needed to calm down, take stock of his situation, and figure out what that situation even was before he started running around like a headless chicken.
After he had calmed down and was thinking clearly again, he had quickly figured out what was going on. This house was under quarantine for squonk sweats, dealing with potential outbreaks was part of auror training in case they ever encountered it. Because of how contagious it was the only thing to do was quarantine houses and pray you could stop the spread. If he remembered correctly, any danger would have passed in a couple of days, and someone would come by and lift the quarantine wards.
Until any danger had passed, Harry was fine to wait it out, he didn’t want to cause a pandemic, and it gave him some time to figure his situation out. He felt more than a little bad however, usually the sweats was not a particularly deadly disease, just incredibly infectious. For an entire family to die like this, the odds were very small, and he couldn’t help feeling responsible in some way. Had his time traveling resurrection somehow caused the deaths of this family.
It was a situation he was going to have to learn to live with. He hadn’t had a choice in the matter and there was nothing he could do to reverse it, so he was just going to have to find a way to move on with his life. Really, the longer he went, the less he thought about the guilt, and the more he focused on the excitement.
Well, it wasn’t just excitement. There was a healthy dose of nerves mixed in there. Voldemort was lurking still lurking out there, he had none of the memories of the boy whose body he seemed to have stolen, and he had left his only friends in the future. Those were the things that jumped out at him, grabbing at his attention. But, in the back of his mind steadily growing was that excitement. He had been wishing for a way to break free of his solitary and monotonous life and now that way had just fallen right into his lap. He had done his part in the past, sacrificed his life for the wizarding world. It might be selfish, but the way he saw it, he now had a second chance at living a real life and it would be a wasted opportunity if he didn’t grab it with both hands.
All that brought him here, sitting at the kitchen table, reading the journal of the boy he seemed to have wound up in. He said boy, because he was a boy again, when he had gone to the courtroom what felt like just a couple of hours ago, he had not counted on being sent flying into the past and back into teenaged years.
From the journal he had started getting a bit of a grasp on the life he had invaded. He was now in the body of Harold Allen, very conveniently that would let him still go by Harry. His parents were the two cold bodies in the sealed room next door. They were also very peasants, although that wasn’t an uncommon thing in the wizarding world. One of the biggest surprises Harry had encountered after leaving Hogwarts was the fact that much of the wizarding world still operated like a feudal society.
The issue with magic was the massive inequality of power and knowledge. Wizards came on a scale; on one side you had people like Dumbledore with massive amounts of power and on the other you had squibs with no or very little magic. There were infinite levels of magical strength in between the two. Then there was skill, you could be the most magically powerful witch or wizard and it did not matter if you couldn’t do anything with it.
This meant that wizards very quickly became split into classes, at the top you had the powerful and skillful wizards, they went to Hogwarts or another seven-year school, they got NEWTs and masteries, they did advanced jobs and got wealthy. Below that you had the guild level wizards, they went to four or five-year schools and specialized on a trade, they lived well. Then at the bottom you had the peasants, they didn’t go to schools, they usually had one wand for the entire family and knew a few essential spells. They farmed and ranched and performed all the jobs that the magical world needed, but didn’t need much magic.
Of course, there was also the fact that magical power while not directly inherited, was linked to the power of your parents and the quality of education available to you was definitely linked to the status of your parents. Brought together you wound up with a world with near zero class mobility. So, by the time the wizarding world went into secrecy around 1700, the upper echelons of wizarding society were either lords among the muggles or close enough. Now, almost 300 years later, there was still many remnants of that in place. Of course, their political power had been slowly stripped away at over time, but they still controlled much economically.
From what Harry could tell based on documents he had found in the other room and the journal, Harold’s family had been a tenant of the Macmillans, meaning the land and house they lived in was owned by the family in exchange for a portion of their harvest, in his case they grew some potions ingredients.
He was not going to be a farmer, he had never particularly liked herbology and he wasn’t particularly good at it either. That put him on a timer. When the harvest came, and the Allen farm produced nothing he was going to be kicked out of this house. So, by October or November he needed to be able to provide for himself. The easiest and really only way he could think of to make money legally as a sixteen-year-old was through dueling tournaments. There should be a few junior tournaments with decent enough prize pools around the islands. Once he turned seventeen and didn’t have to worry about underaged magic restrictions he could maybe do some bounty hunting, he had always been good at finding hidden things. The only issue was that he would have to provide them with some record of education to prove he wasn’t going to kill someone or get himself killed. He had to suppress a groan at the thought of what he was going to do. He had to take the OWLs again.
He flipped to the first free page in the journal and jotted down a rough outline of his plan. He then turned the page and started making a list of goals he had for the future. He definitely had some issues on the horizon, his lack of this body’s memories was going to be an issue. But he was going to figure it out. After that he could do anything, he was a skilled wizard, anything was within his grasp, and he was looking forward to living.
Harry walked down the beaten dirt road towards the village. The last few days had been incredibly awkward. He had been swarmed with people coming up to the house, giving him their condolences. He had expected it to be nearly imposable to hide that he knew none of them, but it actually hadn’t been as hard to do as he thought. As long as he acted dejected and depressed no one criticized him for not speaking much.
That seemed to all be over now, the visits had declined sharply after the first few days and based on the lack of visits from people his age, he was guessing he hadn’t been the most social of people. Now he was going to take the OWLs and after that he only had a couple of weeks before he got the results back. He had been planning to never come back after taking the OWLs until he realized that he was completely broke. He wasn’t going to abandon a perfectly good house when he didn’t have the ability to get anything better.
As he drew closer to the town, the road changed from the hardened dirt to smooth transfigured stone and the houses drew closer together. Each person he walked past recognized him, giving him a sad smile or nod as he passed by. It was an intensely lonely feeling to walk through a whole town of people who knew you and yet feel no connection to them.
He reached the town square and ducked into the small building that housed the Floo. One thing he did miss about his last life, being rich and having a Floo connection in his house. “Ministry of Magic.” The green flames swirled around him and he was happy that he had grown out of his inability to use the Floo with time, it was dead useful and coming flying out face first covered in soot was never a good first impression.
The flames cleared and he took the step to catch himself only to trip and tumble across the black tiled ministry floor. He was about two inches taller now than he was pre-death and clearly was not fully used to that yet. He hadn’t been short before, standing at around 5’ 10”, but he was never going to curse some extra height. He just had to finish adjusting.
Everyone was looking at him now and he stood up quickly and brushed the soot off of himself in embarrassment. Many a weaker man would be embarrassed of the old robes he was wearing; it turns out farmers didn’t see much use in robes so all he had was one set, probably for weddings and funerals. Harry still remembered wearing the massively oversized castoffs from Dudley, no out of style robes could ever compare to how bad that was.
Harry walked over to the desk at the side of the hall. The worker was a young guy who looked bored half to death. Harry guessed he would be as well in his position. “Harry Allen.” having a new last name was going to take some getting used to, “Here to take the OWLs.” The man barely even looked up.
“Wand please.” Harry passed his wand over the desk- eleven inches, oak, dragon heart string. It didn’t work particularly well for him and he doubted it worked that well before he found himself in this body. The man grabbed it, looking surprised at its condition. It wasn’t bad, but it was clear that it was not a new wand. The handle was a little splintery and the whole wand had warped slightly with time.
He got passed back his wand and a badge which he stuck to his robes and moved towards the elevators. He squeezed himself into the crowded elevator and immediately got pressed against the elevator wall as the car shot off to the side and the huddle of people within stumbled over. Merlin, they must have redone these elevators sometime between now and the first time he visited the Ministry because that was far more violent than he remembered.
A minute later he stepped into the department of education. It was a massive cubical farm. A single large room filled with low dividers with a few glass walled rooms lining the wall, and it was almost completely empty. From his spot next to the elevators, he could see a grand total of two people working in an office that had space for more than fifty.
He glanced at the clock near the elevator door, he had the time and date right. The woman nearest to him, a tall redhead, hurried over. “Harold Allen?”
“Yes, call me Harry please. Do I have the wrong time?”
The woman laughed a little, “No, you’re right on time. We really don’t have many people working right now; most people just work during exam season and as you can see, we’ve already finished administering and grading that batch.”
She pointed towards one of the rooms off to the side. “If you’ll follow me.” She started towards what Harry could see was one of the larger rooms. She grabbed a folder as they moved past her desk and opened it. “So, if I am seeing this correctly you want to take charms, transfiguration, potions, defense, arithmancy, and ancient runes?”
He acknowledged that with a nod, he had considered taking more originally, but he had realized that he didn’t really see a point. The only reason he was taking the tests was just to get some kind of certification to prove he was a competent wizard for when he was looking for a job, he couldn’t see himself going into any field where history, astronomy, or herbology were required. “Perfect, each for exam you will have an hour and a half of theory and a practical section that will be based on quality not time. Except for arithmancy and runes of course, that will just be three hours of theory. I think we will just run through the subjects see how far we get today and then meet back at the same time tomorrow and hopefully finish then.”
They entered the room, and he took the desk closest to the front, the woman taking the proctors desk across from him. “Well, any subject you want to start on?”
It was two weeks later, and Harry still smiled whenever he thought about his day taking the OWLs. Sure it had been a long day but the thought of the look on the department of education woman’s face when he finished all six of his OWLs in working day never failed to make him happy. If he was being honest, it wasn’t even that hard. He had gotten his NEWTs in charms, transfiguration, potions, and defense to join the aurors, and he had done a two years of night training to be a field curse breaker. He could pass a test made for children quickly.
The woman had gushed about it probably being a record in terms of time. He honestly didn’t think it was that impressive. He had been taking the tests alone so whenever he decided he was finished with a section they just moved on. Most people sitting the exams did not have that luxury. Harry was certain that there were quite a few people out there who could accomplish the same feat, especially if they put the same minimal effort into the theory that he did.
He had a good reason for not trying though. As he did the first practical, he realized that that the department of education, and the department of justice were one floor apart. So, he was sitting taking exams a floor away from where he died barely more than a week earlier. That creeped him out enough that he didn’t waste any time after that. He would write down the correct answer, but that was the extent of what he did. No in depth explanation, no elaboration on anything, just breezing through it as quickly as possible. If he had to guess after his marks, he would wager on getting Es on everything. Os on the practical sections, As on the theory and having it average out.
The practical portions were actually a good exercise for him. He hadn’t cast many spells with his new wand and casting a bit of everything was a good way to measure its performance. In summary, the wand was ass. He was lucky that this was the OWLs because anything beyond 5th year spells and he wasn’t sure how well the twig would have worked out. For most things it was fine, but with this he just did not have the proper power control or precision. It just felt so wrong and getting a new wand could not come sooner.
He had signed up for a small tournament in late September, it wasn’t a large tournament, and the prize pool was quite small as well, but he needed to compete in a regional tournament so he could get a ranking before he could sign up for any contests that mattered. He sincerely hoped that he would be able to get a new wand before that tournament. With this block of wood there was an actual chance of a spell backfiring in a high-pressure moment. He might just die of embarrassment if he couldn’t win a regional junior tournament.
Two owls swooped in through the open window, the larger one landing first on the table, the small one just a second behind. The large black owl preened a little bit, clearly proud of his winning which prompted the small one to abruptly spread its wings, smacking both the larger owl and Harry in the process. “Yeah, I get it you’re proud.” He made sure to untie the smaller owl’s letter first. He didn’t want to get hit again.
The two owls flew off as soon as their letters were off, knocking into each other midair, almost sending the smaller owl swerving into a tree. Once again, he was left alone in his kitchen. Harry ripped open the first envelope to find his OWL results. He scanned the cover page, same useless intro page it was 25 years from now. He flipped to the next sheet. Almost exactly as he expected, all Es, a surprising O in defense. He guessed that made sense. He was probably one of the most knowledge able people on defense in Britain. If he couldn’t pass a children’s test it would be humiliating.
If the first was his OWLs, what could the second be. He couldn’t think of anybody who would be writing to him. He ripped the envelope open and pulled out a short but thick piece of parchment.
Mr. Allen,
My condolences for the death of your parents, a great tragedy that they were taken from you so soon. If you would please come by Aigan Castle this afternoon I feel we have much to discuss.
Lord Ernest Macmillan III, OM, KM, DSO
Harry really hoped he wasn’t about to get kicked out of his house prematurely. Also, that was probably the single most prideful signature he had ever seen. Most lords, at least the ones he had corresponded with in his time didn’t even use the title lord anymore, the Ernie from his time certainly hadn’t. Listing their medals after their signature was even rarer, he must have served against Grindelwald.
He cast a quick tempus, 1:15, well no point in waiting, he would go throw on his nice robes and then head up. It wasn’t too far from the farmhouse up to the castle that the Macmillan’s called home. When Harry had been waiting to get his OWL’s back he had done some exploring including walking up past the castle so he wouldn’t have any issue getting there. Aigan was a small castle which made sense as it was built for wizards. Spatial expansion charms meant that the interior of the castle could be quite small and still hold large forces, it also meant that there was less wall area to defend.
Regardless of size, the tall smooth walls still appeared intimidating as Harry approached them. The large outer gate was open and Harry passed through, entering a large courtyard. Three young boys and one girl were whipping around on brooms, playing some game that likely only the four of them understood. A young man, probably in his mid 20s sat on a bench up against the walls, reading a book and constantly glancing at the boys.
He spotted Harry and waved him over. “Didn’t think you would get here until later, I’ll bring you up to the lord in a second.” Before he had a chance to respond the man turned around and stuck his fingers in his mouth, sending out the loudest whistle Harry had ever heard a person do. The kids wheeled their brooms around and landed nearby, looking at the man. “I have to show Harry here in, boots on the ground until I get back.”
The kids kicked up a storm of complaints in response to that. “I’m serious there will be hell to pay if you don’t.” He pointed at the girl. “Mary is in charge until I get back.” The girl shot a vicious smirk at the boys and the tallest boy jumped at that. “But I’m the oldest!”
“I know, maybe think about acting that way.”
He turned away and started leading Harry towards the stout keep building. “You might not remember me but I’m Mathew.” Harry of course had no idea who he was, so he shook his head.
“Sorry, I don’t.”
“It’s fine, I’ve been away from town for long enough that I didn’t expect you to.” They passed into the main building. Harry noticed that despite its blocky plain exterior, the edging of the door was carved with countless small creatures, dragons breathing fire and hippogriffs prancing around the entrance. The interior was not what Harry expected. While the outside looked like a castle ready to be plunged into battle at any moment, the interior was closer to a manor than a castle. Hardwood floors covered with carpets, tapestries adorning the walls, an ornate chandelier above, and a large window which definitely did not exist on the outside spilling natural light into the large entry hall.
“My family has the Granian farm on the south side of the valley. You’d probably know my younger brother Alex better.”
“Ah” Harry nodded as if that clarified everything.
“I was sad to hear about your parents, they were always kind.” Harry nodded again and they were dropped into an awkward silence. They exited the entryway walked down a corridor lined with portraits and doorways. He felt the need to break the silence, this Mathew guy was just trying to be nice and he was being uncooperative.
“So, what are you doing here now?”
Mathew smiled at the question. “The Macmillans paid for me to train as a solicitor, then when I graduated, they hired me. I’m training under their current guy right now for law and accounting, just the running of the castle and town.”
Harry was actually happy for Mathew; he had a great opportunity. “Wow that’s amazing.”
He smiled. “Well, it would be better if I wasn’t roped into babysitting some of the grandkids whenever I’m not busy. Their parents seem to think that being watched by me will make them less spoiled, can’t say I’ve seen any progress.” They both laughed, “They’re good kids though, it’s not much trouble.”
They stopped in front of a heavy dark wood door and Mathew knocked. They stood there in silence listening for an answer. A muffled “Come in” came through the door. Mathew smiled at him, “Good luck”.
He pulled open the door and Harry entered. The man behind the desk stood up as he came in and Harry had to revise his thought that the man fought Grindelwald. It must have been an earlier war because the man in front of him had to be around the age Dumbledore was when they met his first year. However, age was the only similarity the two-man had. Dumbledore had his hair and beard, Lord Macmillan, was completely bald. Dumbledore was slender and moved gracefully, the man in front of Harry was built like a rugby prop. Harry was tall now, and the man had at least four-five inches on him and at least seventy pounds.
He beckoned Harry towards him and Harry realized that he was standing in the doorway. “Harold,” he clasped Harry’s hand, almost crushing it with his force. “I was sorry to hear about your parents, your family has always been exemplary tenants.” Harry felt like that was an insult, but he was positive that the elderly man didn’t mean it that way.
He sat and Harry sat after him. “Now, I assume you know why I called you up here today?”
“I can only assume it is about the house and the farm.”
The older man started at him in silence for a few moments before he burst out laughing. He reached across the desk and patted Harry’s shoulder, almost knocking him out of the chair with the force. Harry made a goal to gain some muscle and weight, it was embarrassing to get knocked around like this by an old man. “That’s a good one, I hadn’t even thought of that yet.”
He looked around his desk grabbing a piece of parchment. “A friend of mine saw where you were from and sent me these. Five Es and an O.” He looked up, “Very impressive.”
Harry opened his mouth to play it off but was cut off before he could get a word out. “I have to admit I was shocked that someone with no schooling could get these scores, so I kept coming back to them. Then I noticed this,” he pointed at the date line on the parchment. “You took 6 OWLs in one day and didn’t get worse than an E.” He snorted and looked at Harry. “I wish young Ernest could do that.”
“I’m sure he could, I was fortunate enough to be the only one taking the tests at that time and I probably got very lucky.”
He pointed at Harry, his thick finger piercing. “Modest as well. Don’t be too modest boy, you have talent and I’m not going to let it go to waste.” He grabbed a glass of water from next to him taking a sip. “If this is what you can do with no schooling, I am excited to see how you do on your NEWTs.”
“What do you mean by that, sir?” Harry was pretty sure he knew but he wanted clarification.
“I assume you know Mathew; he was good with numbers and reading in primary school down in the village. So, I paid for his schooling.”
“Why would you do it for me?” Harry cringed after he said it, realizing how rude it sounded. This man was offering to get him into a school and pay for it and here Harry was questioning him.
“Why do I need a reason?” he scoffed “You look at these younger generations like Malfoy, Scrimgeour, or Davis, one of their workers or tenants doesn’t make their expected profit they replace him. They don’t understand that a bit of leniency, renovating a town building, sponsoring a boy is part of the job. You know how many strikes they have had in the past few decades.”
Harry shook his head and Macmillan laughed “Neither do I, but I haven’t had any. So, what do you say my boy.”
Harry nodded his head. A free year of room and board and the opportunity to experience a normal year of schooling. Count him in. “What school will I be attending.”
The old lord looked at him with a smile and waved the parchment. “With scores like this, son you are going to Hogwarts.”
Harry slumped back in his chair shocked. Voldemort wasn’t supposed to start kicking up dust for a couple of years, please don’t make this a repeat of his first Hogwarts experience.