Archive of Our Own

Harry had never quite brought himself to getting another owl. Not one of his own. Sure they had family owls; Loop and Widget. But in his mind they really belonged to Ginny. He just borrowed them occasionally. And he was fine with that. Even preferred it. Frankly, since losing Hedwig, owls had been a sore point for him. She had been a good owl, and it would just feel like he was trying to replace her. 

But when he found a fledgling owl flopped helplessly on the ground in the garden, he couldn’t just leave it. It was small, and limp, and hooting weakly at the sky.

And it was a snowy.

He knew enough about owl care to coax it back to life in a box in the kitchen on his own. He fed it rations from Loop’s emergency food (that bird would never learn to hunt for itself) and watched it nervously as it slowly regained its strength. He fended off James and Albus when they wanted to pick it up and make it fly (the boy’s hadn’t figured ‘gentle’ out yet.) He scowled when Ginny said she thought it was good that he was taking the lead with an owl again. 

Once it was hopping about and stretching its wings, he took it back outside, allowing himself only a moment to enjoy the feel of its talons gripping his arm, and tried to let it go. He twitched his arm upward and the owl took flight. Perhaps a little wobbly, but it was young and would get the hang of it. Harry watched as it flapped around the garden and came back to land on his shoulder.

“What? No! Get off. Go.”

The owl looked at him, uncomprehending. Harry was blushing with indignation.
“You’re not mine . I just… helped. You can go now. Do owl things. Catch mice and… I dunno, hoot in trees.”

It ruffled its speckled wings and dug its talons in a little more – though not painfully. The message was clear. I’m staying . Ginny was laughing by the back door. He half suspected she had put the owl up to this. Eventually, Harry sighed and gave in.

“Alright you can stay. But you aren’t mine.”

Diagon Alley was bustling with its usual crowds. They weren’t quite into the rush of the summer holidays – by his reckoning the Hogwarts students would be agonising over how to make a teapot dance across a table around now – but it was always busy even without the families jostling for new robes and wands. Harry kept his head down as he wove through the people. Going anywhere public always came with the chance of being recognised – either as ‘the-boy-who-lived’ or ‘that-bloody-auror-who-arrested-my-uncle’ and he was getting very tired of both. Instead he fixed his attention on the cobbles, occasionally glancing up at the brightly-coloured signs that lined the street.

The owl (so far, Harry had steadfastly refused to name it) seemed to be enjoying this outing. It sat on Harry’s shoulder swiveling its head this way and that. Occasionally, it hooted happily and fluttered its wings. Strangely, it reminded Harry of his first trip here. It had all looked so wondrous then. He hadn’t ever thought he would hear an owl gasp. Luckily, they weren’t that odd a sight on a major wizarding thoroughfare. It may even have distracted the few people who would have otherwise spotted him. Eventually, he found the shop he was looking for; Eeylops Owl Emporium.

Several cages were hung like flower baskets outside, each housing a fantastically behaved owl. An imperious looking tawny was watching the street with apparent disapproval while her barn neighbor drank from a small bowl. Between their cages, Harry got a quick glance through the sparkling window at the piles of cages and food bags on display.

And a familiar looking figure behind the counter… No way.

Harry stood for a moment, squinting at the silver streak of hair that he had glimpsed in the empty shop, then with a fresh bubble of excitement rising in his gut, he pushed open the door.

She looked up at the sound of the bell and the moment their eyes met, her face broke into a wide smile. Luna Lovegood, naturalist extraordinaire, was wearing shop-assistant’s robes and standing behind the counter. Her near-white hair was tied back in an uncharacteristically sensible plait and she had gained a tan, but there was no mistaking the misty gaze or the floating voice.

“Harry Potter,” She said dreamily, “How are you? It’s been a while since we last spoke.”

“Luna! You’re not working here? I thought you were studying Dugbogs in Brazil.” Harry tried not to sound too much like he thought shop assistant was the last job he’d expected her to have. Luna was many things, but she was a far cry from the usual gregarious witch that would try to persuade you to buy the pricier talon polish.

“Oh, I have been. I think I’ve discovered a new subspecies in Bahia. Now we’ve brought a specimen home for all the taxonomic paperwork, we’re building funds for another trip. Though we can’t decide on where.”

Harry grinned, he and Luna didn’t keep in touch much, but on the occasions they did meet, he always loved her wild stories of tramping around the world in search of creatures whispered in rumour.

“Let me guess, you want to go to Sweden again?”

Luna sighed. “Rolf says it’s pointless. I think he’s lost all hope in finding the snorkack.”

“Shame. I’ve been annoying Hermione with fun facts about them.”
She narrowed her eyes at that. “So she still doesn’t believe in it?”

“Nope.” Harry plucked the owl from his shoulder and coaxed it onto the counter, “You know Hermione. Won’t believe anything that isn’t peer reviewed. I don’t think she ever got over the Lockhart thing.”

They both laughed at that. When it came to the potential existence of the elusive crumple-horned snorkack, Harry wasn’t in either camp. Although he hoped, for Luna’s sake, she would find it. She’d spent so long talking about the thing, but he had to admit that the evidence was slim.

Small-talk over, Harry explained about the new owl and she agreed to give him a proper check up while he selected a cage and letter band for its leg.

He was inspecting the quality of the leather on the cheaper bands when Luna spoke again.

“How is it in the auror office? I heard about the restructuring.”

Harry sighed and plucked a pricier loop from the shelf. “Yeah, It’s all a bit upside down right now. Obviously we had a big push on transparency right after… everything. And Minister Shacklebolt says that with Ron and me in the department it’s a lot easier.”

“But?” Luna prompted. She always seemed to know when he was holding back. And though she didn’t keep secrets, she didn’t spread them either.

Harry sighed again and tried to pick though the mess of exhausted annoyances that clouded his work these days. “But last year I got this new position, and I’m suddenly so much more senior. You don’t get much thanks as an Auror and now so much of the buck stops with me now. It’s stressful to say the least. Ron says he’s thinking of leaving soon. He wants more time for family, and I get it. Sorry.” He glanced over at her, embarrassed. “I’m just being petulant. Rough patch y’know.”

Luna hummed her understanding as she scratched the top of the owl’s head. It blinked slowly and leaned into her hand. Harry felt a pang of longing as he watched them. Luna seemed so at ease with everything around her. After the war, she had been the first to bounce back. To pick up her old ambitions and smile again. He wished he had that. For him it had been an unending, crawling push to find the rest of the death eaters. He and Ron had come out of auror training and immediately been thrown into interrogations and duels with the wiliest and highest-ranking people in the country. It had ground them down, he realised. 

Luna though, she started to travel the world the moment she got the chance. Reporting back with wonderful stories about carefree adventures and new creatures that noone had really thought existed. Others might have resented it, but Harry thought it was amazing. She got to be normal again. Wasn’t that the whole point?

“You know, I was quite surprised that you became an auror.” Luna said in a simple, airy tone.

Harry frowned. Why would that be surprising? He spent an entire year teaching her defence, surely it made sense for one to follow the other. She glanced up and smiled at his expression.

“Oh it seems to suit you, at least when you’re not in a rough patch, but with the war, I always got the impression that you were pushed into it.”

“Huh. Well I guess, yeah. I had a lot of anger back then. I didn’t want to believe it you know.”

“You sound like you think you were unreasonable.”

Harry was starting to feel like he was answering questions from a hostile interviewer, “Well, someone had to deal with Voldemort. And someone had to catch the rest of them after. And I had it in my head since… what… fourth year.”

“Yes, you mentioned that once. The fake Moody said you’d be good at it.”

“Yeah…”

It felt quite odd to attribute his one life ambition to some advice from a disguised death eater. It wasn’t the first time one of the old DA had given him the quizzical ‘and-you-didn’t-recocider-his-advice-when-you-found-out-who-he-was’ look. He’d given it to himself in the mirror sometimes. On the bad nights. Those were happening more often now.

Harry shook the thought from his mind. Luna didn’t need to know about his troubles.

“So what did you think I would do?”

She shrugged. “Well you were quite a good teacher.”

“I was?”

“Yes. You taught about forty students a full curriculum in about six months. It was very impressive.”

“I suppose so, but that was out of necessity.”

“That doesn’t make it less impressive.”

They lapsed into silence for a while. Luna pulled a bottle of Owl Alive from under the counter and Harry placed the new cage and leg band next to the owl. He was thinking hard. The DA was one of the few things he looked back on during that period that made him feel happy. He had liked leading it. And she was right, he had taught them well. But the world hadn’t wanted a teacher. It wanted a hero. Someone for the posters who made them feel safe – even if he wasn’t

He’d had long conversations with Ron about their contingencies. What would happen if one of them went down in the line of duty. Their families wouldn’t be left wanting – the Weasleys tended to operate as one unit – but they had each wanted to set out the details. They wanted to be sure.

It was all so exhausting. The undertone of fear whenever they went to apprehend a suspect. The shrewd conversations and tired stakeouts. It was never ending. And he was so tired. In truth, it wasn’t the first time he considered a change. And if she could see it so easily…

He shouldn’t ask. Luna probably had her own issues and was just keeping quiet like a normal person. Except that wasn’t like her. And she had never judged before, only offered advice.

“Do you think I’m still fighting the war?” He asked, “We all agreed it’s over, but sometimes I wonder if I am.”

Luna considered him for a moment, “Yes. I think you are.”

That settled it. There was some serious thinking to be done now. He nodded his thanks and reached for the owl. It hooted in delight and fluttered up to his shoulder again.
“You’re getting too used to that.” Harry chuckled.

“He’s a very nice owl.” said Luna, “You’ve done well with him. I’d recommend a spoon of this stuff once a day for a week, just to be sure. With those too… That’s nine galleons and three sickles.”

Harry paid and thanked her profusely. “We ought to meet up again, while you and Rolf are still in the country.”

“I’d like that.” She replied, then her warm expression broke into excitement, “Actually, if you’re thinking about what I said… There was an ad in the Prophet.”

She pulled a thick newspaper from under the counter and leafed through a couple pages as Harry tried to coax the owl into his cage. Then she tore a page out, folded it neatly so only one square advert was readable and passed it to him.

Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts Wanted

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is looking to hire a new professor for their defence against the dark arts department. (junior position)

In house lodging or commute arrangements are accepted.

Applicants should contact Headmistress Minerva McGonagall by June 20th.

This time, it was Harry’s turn to squint at Luna. “Is this a set up?”

“Does it matter?”

No. He supposed it didn’t. Harry looked at the advert and realised that it sounded… right. Of course there was no guarantee he’d get the job even if he did apply. Professor McGonagall didn’t play favourites. But he wanted the change. He wanted the challenge. And, though it wouldn’t be a deal-breaker if not, it would probably be hard to be the-boy-who-lived to a bunch of children he was setting essays on vampires.

“Thank you Luna. For everything.” She smiled warmly and packaged his purchases with a flick of her wand.

“I forgot to ask. What are you calling him?”

Harry looked at the owl as it ruffled its speckled feathers. He was being stupid not naming it. Besides, if it weren’t for this bird, he wouldn’t have had this conversation. The guy had earned it. He frowned. The owl looked back at him. Its eyes were wide and deep. Clever, in an animal way. The name floated into Harry’s head seemingly of its own accord. But he knew it was right.

“Merlin.” 

After all, he was in A History of Magic as well.