ii
It was the next morning and Y/n felt the pain of moving in every single crevice of their body. Much as magic helped with the process, the hours of moving around or hanging down to rummage through the endless depths of their bag still took its toll.
“Lord, I’m getting old,” They complained, which wasn’t true, they were only 33, and in this modern world, they still had their whole life ahead of them.
Carefully they rose, and grabbed a sweatshirt and sweatpants, realizing the error in escaping the wizarding world, then reentering: they were missing the proper attire.
“I guess I do have to go to town today.”
They pondered whether or not Hogsmeade had a clothes shop. But surely they had to for the students that may have grown out of their robes during their stay at Hogwarts,
right?
After getting their clothes on and grabbing their wand and galleons, they started walking out of their humble room, and into the main castle. Then, after descending the many, many steps, they walked to the front doors and stepped out.
Today was a bright and sunny day in Scotland, so they decided to walk to the small town, rather than apparate, as days like these would be few and far in between now that fall and winter were approaching.
They found themselves taking much longer than they remembered the trip being, taking their time to look at all of the scenery like it was new. Living in the big city of London for the last decade or so, they had not been able to see beautiful forests and hills like this often. That is unless they were able to get a vacation, but their workaholic nature made such occasions much less frequent than others had wished for them.
Looking at the forest as an adult, made the forest feel much less scary than it was before. As a child, they used to spend every second in those moss floors in terror of what might jump out of the shadows at them during their Magical Creatures class. But now, they seemed serene and full of the wild unknown, an adventure to be had and happily explored.
“Perhaps I will have Hagrid give me a tour around the forest sometime soon.” They muttered to themself.
While lost in thought of the forest around them, they suddenly realized that they had traveled a great distance, and the dense forest had now turned into sparse trees leading to the small town of Hogsmeade.
They increased their speed, while they wanted a nice walk, they did not want to spend much time in the public. As their time as one in the public view made being out hard, with everyone wanting to draw attention to their appearance and get a photo or a signature.
Soon enough they had tracked down a shop labeled “Magically Good Clothes.” They smiled to themself and walked inside, finding an elderly woman talking eagerly with her middle aged double, assumedly her daughter.
They smiled and raised their hands in acknowledgement.
“Women’s clothes to the left, men to the right, dear. If you need tailoring, we do such as well,” said the younger woman.
“Thank you,” Y/n said as they looked for their size around the store.
Quickly finding 5 robes in their size, they snatched them up and brought them to the counter, setting them down carefully and bringing out their pouch of coins as the old woman counted up the tags absentmindedly, only interrupting her gossip to tell Y/n the total.
Y/n set the amount on the table and the younger woman put the clothes in a paper bag, as her mother took and counted the coins.
When the transaction was complete, they each said their “thank you”s and the old woman called for them to come again.
One of two shops down and Y/n had yet to be recognized or hassled for their old job. The day was going well so far, they thought.
Slowly wandering down the street, they passed a few couples walking about, or groups of men laughing through the open doors of the bar. It was such a familiar sight, that Y/n couldn’t help but smile. Being back in Hogwarts had, so far, been a blast from the past, a memory of what once was before their decision to cut it all out. Being back in all of the warm glow of magic and familial bonds of friends, they couldn’t help but regret their decision. They wouldn’t give up their time outside for the world, but if they hadn’t been so stubborn they wouldn’t have to reacquaint themself with everyone and prove they are worthy to not only be a wizard, but teach at the biggest school of wizardry around.
Soon enough, they had landed at a second hand book and music shop, and they mentally tallied the shop–Bogbean–so they could come back another time to fill their shelves. Walking in, the bell on the door chimed, and from the back, Y/n could hear an old man yell a welcome call.
Looking around the shop, they were met with thousands of books, records, and CDs. They were stacked on shelves, on top of counters, in stacks against shelves, counters, or walls, in every nook and cranny, looking up, they saw that there were even some held to the ceiling.
“Those ar’ also fer sale!” The old man said, scaring Y/n at his sudden closeness, “Can I help yer fin’ an’thin’?”
“Do you happen to have any record players? I’m looking for two. As well as some records.” They smiled politely.
“There ‘re recerds all ‘round. Record players ‘re a diff’rent story. I’ll look ‘n the back.”
“Thank you.”
While the old man looked around the back for the record players, Y/n browsed the shop for records, finding a few of their favourites and tucking them in the crook of their arm, then after about fifteen minutes of browsing, their eyebrows rose in shock. There was a small shelf with their debut album sitting atop the middle shelf, their young, cocky face meeting their own, much older one. Beside the album was their more recent albums side by side, with a small note atop the shelf reading “LOCAL WIZARD ARTIST” with an arrow pointing down.
They smiled, perhaps the people they’d grown up around had understood why they left out of nowhere. Or why they spent years pretending to have grown up in a cult in rural England, instead.
"Ifanyoneasks, itwassoIdidn’talertthemuggles, nootherreason." They thought.
They hesitated in front of the shelf for a second before deciding they would buy one of each albums, if not for displaying, than to show the students during the Music Production semester of their course.
They walked around some more, and once they found a sufficient stack of records to split between their class and their room, they brought it to the front counter, where they found the owner waiting patiently with two dusty record players.
“Not many ‘ave picked up ‘eir recerds,” the old man thought aloud, “only one oth’r so far. A teacher at the Hog-warts, methinks.”
“A teacher, really?” Y/n said, astonished, “I’m a teacher at Hogwarts!”
“Well it ain’t you.”
“No, sir,” they smiled to hide the annoyance creeping up their neck, “do you remember what they looked like?”
“I nev’r speak of ‘y clients. Confidential bus’ness. But ‘ey’ve come ‘n everytime e’ve got anoth’r of theirs.”
“I will keep that in mind. Thank you, sir.”
Y/n paid quickly and took the bag of their items. They were frustrated that the old man would not tell them who had bought the records, but being one of the staff narrowed it down easily. After all, everyone had a different taste. They would be keeping an eye out for the mysterious colleague who kept in touch with their works over the years.