Chapter Text
Harry parked in the dirt lot of the Main ranger station, twilight finally rolling over into night as he removed his helmet and shook his hair out. He lifted his glasses and massaged the side of his head where the legs had dug into them during the ride, then rubbed at his eyes. The small bit of twilight he had ridden through strained his sight to its limits, and his eyes felt gritty. Harry was lucky the sign for Glencour Park was so big; otherwise, he would have missed it.
He unhooked his luggage from the back of the bike, double-checking its shrinking charm. Magic wasn’t taboo here, especially since this forest had specific troubles with magical fire, but it could sometimes be unstable; at least, that was what he was told. Plus, he wasn’t sure how big the tower he would be occupying was. Every time he looked it up, he got varying answers. He didn’t want to crowd himself in there, but there were certain things he knew he couldn’t live without, like his family photo album. He had completed it over the years and filled it with wizarding photographs of the Weasleys and Hermione, maybe even a few of the teachers at Hogwarts and one pilfered, faded picture of Snape tucked away behind one of Lily.
Slinging the bag over his shoulder and locking up his bike, Harry aimed for the building, the take-out container holding his pie safely balanced on one hand. There was only one light still shining dully through the windows, barely casting any shadow on the ground. Just as he was about to knock, the door swung open, surprising him enough that he attempted to reach for his wand. The man inside had his arm already raised, and his wand pointed at Harry’s forehead. Harry figuratively rolled his eyes at his stupidity at using his pie as protection.
“James Evans?” The voice was gruff, and the slight urgency he heard within it had goosebumps forming along Harry’s arms.
“Yes, Sir,” Harry said as he lowered his edible pie shield and peeked over the top. Bob was a large man, over six feet tall, with muscles straining at the sleeves of his worn brown Ranger shirt.
The man lowered his wand and shoved it into his back pocket.
“You scared the fuck out of me, and drop the ‘Sir.’ It's just Bob, or Mr Walker, if you have a thing about being formal. Come on in, kid.” Bob turned and walked towards his office, leaving the door open for Harry to follow, which he did, closing the door behind him. The urgency in the man's voice had eased, and all Harry could hear was exhaustion. It made him feel even worse about being late. He finally pulled off his backpack and plucked the greasy paper bag from the crowded depths. Harry really hoped he didn’t squish it.
“I wanted to apologize for being late; plus, my Godfather always told me to never arrive anywhere empty-handed, so I had Pop grill you up a burger. My treat.” An involuntary blush crept over Harry’s cheeks at his slight fib, so he corrected himself. “Alright, it’s actually Pop’s treat. He wouldn’t let me pay for it.”
A loud laugh burst from Bob, slightly startling Harry since everything surrounding their interaction had been quiet and subdued up until now. A smile spread across his face as he handed over the bag and released the stasis spell. The station was immediately filled with the scent of the diner, cheesy burgers and potatoes fried to perfection.
“Oh yeah, that's the stuff.” Bob sighed after taking a deep breath from the bag, and Harry sat with a small smile at the man's obvious joy. “Thank you. I’m unsure how either of you knew, but I missed dinner tonight, so I really appreciate the food. Now, we have a few things to discuss before you head out, but first,” Bob pulled out the side drawer of the desk and rummaged through it before plopping a few things on top. “Keys.”
Harry picked up the keyring but tilted his head curiously at the bulk and weight. There were definitely more than the two keys he expected, one for the tower and one for the loo. There were at least a dozen on there, and none of them seemed like duplicates.
“What?” Harry asked, holding his hand out towards Bob, who waved him off as he finished a bite of his burger.
“I’ll explain. The first keyring you have are your keys: Tower 7, bathroom, regular supply shed, and magical broom shed. The second ring contains all the keys to your surrounding towers, 6 and 8, just in case there is an emergency and you need to get to them. The last item you have is a skeleton spell key to the supply caches; this should open any supply cache by tapping the key on top of the lock. Nice little piece of ingenuity by one of our veteran watchers, a pretty smart kid. Does all of that make sense?” Bob explained through a mouth full of fries.
Harry nodded, swallowing his questions. There had to be a reason he had all of these, so he shoved his inner Hermione aside and decided to go with the flow. It had served him well in the past, liquid luck or not, so why not stick with something that works.
“Yeah, got it.” He shoved the keys in his pocket and picked up the next item on the desk. “Bear spray?”
“Magically modified bear spray. It should also work on any magical creatures that roam these woods. Not that there are many, but it is a possibility. Though regular bear spray works just as well on any werewolves or vampires you encounter.” Harry blinked at Bob’s nonchalant answer but didn’t get a chance to reply as Bob continued. “Oh, and don’t use it on Quinn. He’s our resident Sasquatch and he’s harmless.”
“You have a resident Sasquatch?!”
“James, these are protected magical woods. We have a lake filled with Plimpys, and we’re adjacent to a Horned Serpent Sanctuary. Sometimes campers find the little buggers lounging on top of their tent when there’s a thunderstorm. Are you sure you’re going to be able to handle this?” Bob laid his burger down in the foil and gave him a very serious look. Harry took a deep breath and answered with confidence he wasn’t sure he had right now, but he pushed through.
“Yes, I can do this. I took Care of Magical Creatures in school,” Harry answered, and Bob sat back in his seat and sighed.
“Across the pond, sure, but here in the US, things are a little different.” Bob reached under his desk and brought out a stack of books. He quickly tapped them with his wand to shrink them and held them out to Harry.
“These are books about the species native to North America. Take your first few weeks and read through all of them.” Bob then pushed a folder that had been sitting on the side of his desk towards him. “This is your orientation paperwork. Gives you the history of Glencour Park, current magical residents, park rules, emergency regulations, etcetera. You’ll find Maps, Ranger Station information, and everything in your tower. Any questions so far?”
“A ton, but I can wait to read through everything before I ask those. I only have one right now. How far away is my tower?”
Bob chuckled. “You’ve got quite a hike ahead of you. Normally, I wouldn’t recommend using a broom to get there because some of the animals get agitated, but you have a significant distance to cover.”
“It’s that far, is it?”
“About thirteen miles, so an average hike should be about four to six hours depending on your hiking level. There is a bit of rough terrain between here and the tower and you have to hike there since there aren’t many roads to travel on within the park.”
“That’s why you wanted me here earlier. I apologise.”
“Nothing can be done about that now.” Bob reached into the filing cabinet behind him and pulled out a sleek broom of dark red wood. Harry immediately sat up straight, his interest peaked.
“I’ve never seen a broom that colour. What type of wood is that? Can I see it?” Harry put his hand out and waited before Bob shook his head indulgently and dropped it into his open palm.
“California redwood. Harvested humanely and legally so as not to harm any protected ones. She’s a beaut, right?”
“She’s gorgeous. I’d love to take it out for a spin if that would be alright, but I actually brought my own from home. I think I would feel more comfortable riding my broom at night.”
“Of course you can. Just let me know when you’d like to borrow it,” Bob chuckled and stood up, placing the broom back into the cabinet before moving towards the large map that took up a side of the cabin. Harry still marvelled at the bulk of Bob as he took up half of the map with just his shoulders. “Now, let's plan your route before you leave. Since you’ll be in the air, you won't need the smaller landmarks explained, but I don’t want you to get lost. Grab my compass, please.”
Harry nodded and swiped the compass off the desk before joining Bob at the giant map. It contained all of Glencour Park and Campgrounds, which consisted of several towers, lakes, camping sites, and caves. The only roads in the vicinity of the park were service ones that followed the powerlines and the motorway along the outskirts. It was a secluded paradise, and Harry was looking forward to having time to work on himself and his magic, even if he had to speak with his fellow rangers occasionally.
Bob explained his trek and how Harry would have to fly just above the peak of the trees. Most of the creatures that lived in the forest, including the ones that lived in the top branches, would leave him be if he were that high. It would take some time because he had to fly slower than normal, most likely two hours for the trip, but not as long as if he had to hike, and that was all that mattered.
Harry would be a nightmare in the morning if he couldn't be in his new bed around midnight. He said as much to Bob, who laughed and reminded him that he had a coffee maker in the tower, along with a hot plate, wood-burning stove, and water boiler. Harry was happy to hear they had electricity, but it was in the form of a generator that leaned towards quirky and tended to break down once in a while. Bob mentioned there were candles if the power went out and the wood stove should give him enough warmth. There were also tools in the shed if he needed to fix anything.
“I’m glad you’re here, kid,” Bob said, his tone jovial even though it was getting later by the minute, and Harry was sure Bob was as exhausted as he was. “Tower 7 has stood empty for a year or two.”
“Oh. Do you know if any repairs are still pending?” Harry asked since Bob had recently mentioned tools in their conversation. He ignored the ominous note of Bob saying the tower had stood empty. He could address that mystery when he was more awake.
“Everything should be in tip-top shape unless something happened in the last week or so. We had one of our seasoned rangers sweep your tower before you arrived, actually, your neighbouring Tower 8 ranger. He is the closest to you at just over twenty-three miles, the next tower being almost fifty miles away after that,” Bob confirmed before leaving the map and returning to his desk to resume eating the now cold burger.
“He also stocked your mini fridge, so you should have plenty of food even through the next supply drop in a month or so.” Bob continued before looking at his watch. “You should probably get going if you want to get to your tower at a decent time. Won’t get there until 1 am at this rate.”
Harry checked his watch, the time ticking over to 11 pm as he followed the moving hands.
“Oh wow, the time really flew, huh?”
Bob chuckled. “Sorry for yapping at you for so long. I tend to ramble when I get tired, and I wanted to make sure you were caught up on my expectations before you took off. The rest of the orientation packet should be in the tower, so just study up on that for the next few weeks and radio me if you have any questions. Make sure to keep your handset charged, especially if you go on a long hike and explore the woods on foot. Know your area.”
Harry was excited to explore, wander around in nature for a bit, and be alone. He thought about visiting the tower next to him. Twenty-two miles didn’t seem too bad if he flew, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet new people or even if he was allowed to use his broom. He was told tonight was an exception. He could save visiting for when he had built up better endurance for hiking long distances. Harry wanted to at least thank the man for looking after the tower.
He spotted his bag resting against Bob’s desk, then remembered the pie he had brought for a late-night snack. It was balanced precariously on the corner of the desk where he had left it after using it as a shield, and his mouth watered, thinking about the saucy apple and warm cinnamon smell. He thought about sitting and eating with Bob but ultimately decided against it; he was running late. Maybe he could instead enjoy it once he got to the tower or save it for breakfast tomorrow with a nice hot coffee.
“I’m going to head out then. I’d like to get a few hours of sleep before the sun wakes me up.” Harry picked up his bag to fish out his old, reliable broom. His Nimbus was a bit beaten up and slower than it used to be, but it was still strong and held incredible sentimental value to him.
“Are you sure that's going to get you there? I haven’t seen a Nimbus 2000 in years.” Bob eyed it wearily, and Harry chuckled.
“Yeah, it should be fine. I’ve taken good care of it. I was a seeker in school, then played pick-up Quidditch ever since.”
“Good, good. Get outta here, then. And give me a shout on Channel 11 when you get to your tower. You won’t have cell phone service, and Channel 1 is for emergencies only. I want to ensure you don't get grabbed on the way.”
Harry’s eyebrows rose at that, but he just shrugged and let it go. Bob wouldn’t send him that way if it wasn’t safe, so he had to trust the man. He nodded and left the way he came, shutting the door behind him.
Bob had said to head northeast towards Soggy Lake, which he should be able to see once he was in the air, the moonlight reflecting off the glassy waters. Harry didn’t want to take any chances, so he reached into his pocket to pull out the compass he'd stuffed there earlier. He adjusted the makeshift band and installed it onto his broom handle, something he had Arthur Weasley help him with since Arthur had been experimenting with Muggle bicycles before Harry had left the UK. A pang of loneliness hit him in the chest, thinking about the plethora of questions the man used to blast him with every time he was at the Burrow.
Harry cleared his throat and wiped at a rogue tear that had escaped before hopping on the broom and rising into the air. His night vision wasn’t great, so he conjured a bluebell flame, as Hermione had taught him. A pit of dread formed in his stomach, and he quickly descended again to pull out his mobile. He realised he'd forgotten to text Hermione and Ron when he got here.
He turned on the screen and squinted at the bright light. He saw a few texts from his new friend Jules wishing him well and hoping Bob wasn’t too upset with him about arriving late. He quickly responded, saying he didn’t get in trouble and was heading to the tower now. Then he looked at the incoherent mess Hermione had sent him and chuckled. He sent a long message saying he was there, safe, and he wouldn’t have mobile service once he got to the tower. He would text when he could get service and loved them very much.
With the communication done, he threw a leg over his broom and lifted up into the sky. A rogue breeze had him shivering atop the broom as he adjusted it in the direction he was supposed to fly. He took off at a steady pace, taking his time to observe his surroundings and take everything in. He figured he might as well get used to the place since it’s where he will spend the next several months.
Even though it was pretty dark, the moon gave him a nice glow to see by. He spotted hiking paths below him, prominent signs directing people to their campsites, and even a few nocturnal animals running through the brush. It was quiet up there, peaceful like he hadn’t experienced in years. He loved the Weasleys; they were his only remaining family, but there was rarely a quiet moment for him to think, especially with the newest batch of grandkids born.
Harry sat up, spreading his arms wide, and closed his eyes as he drifted along the treetops. He wanted to feel the cool breeze against his skin, ruffling his hair, and the almost cold snap refreshed his resolve. He felt content until a loud hoot startled him, nearly knocking him off his broom. He spotted an owl staring at him from a tall tree, and he realised he had drifted lower than he was supposed to within the canopy. He narrowly missed being smacked in the face by thin pointy branches.
He adjusted his height and continued through the sky, keeping his hands on the broom and his eyes on the prize. Soon, the top of his tower loomed in the distance, a bright oasis that seemed to be calling his name, the warmth of the light inside a beacon of hope. He was glad the tower was lit; otherwise, he might have flown right by it. He was tempted to just land on the upper deck and call it a night, but something told him to land at the base and then explore his surroundings before he got too tired.
There wasn’t anything to write home about, a simple shack with a few tools, extra supplies, camping gear, and other extraneous things at the base of the tower. Some stuff he may need eventually, but he only grabbed an additional set of batteries for his flashlight and locked the shack behind him as he wandered towards the outhouse. He hadn’t used the bathroom since he left the diner, and suddenly, he urgently had to go; whatever had been weighing him down finally started to relax. A quick pitstop later, he was ready to head to what would be his new home for the next several months.
Each step had its own unique creak as he climbed, a little to the left or a quiet whine of worn wood, each one a welcome of its own. It felt familiar, the sounds reminding him of the comforting sway and bend of the Burrow. The ground disappeared as he climbed higher and higher until he finally reached the top. He rounded the corner and unlocked the door, the room slightly chilly as the dying embers of the wood stove attempted to keep the place as warm as they could.
Harry was too tired to trek back down to the tower base to grab a few more logs, the concept of Accio’ing not even crossing his mind, so he dropped his bag on the bed and pulled everything out, unshrinking the extra luggage he had shoved in there. He didn’t have much in the way of clothes, but he made sure to bring loads of blankets and joggers, the warning of freezing temperatures during heavy storms lingering in his mind. He had seen his fair share of rain in London, but he was told this was something else entirely, with rogue lightning strikes causing fires and rivers to overflow.
The sudden fizzle of static made him jump, and his head swung wildly around the tower until he spotted the source of the sound, a large black radio propped up on the desk. It had a handset attached to it, along with a portable one charging on the side. Harry settled in the seat, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, as he grabbed the handset, ready to answer when the call came through.
Bob: Main Base to Tower 7. You make it ok, James?
Harry: Hi Bob. Yes, I made it here just fine, though I did piss off an owl on the way. [Harry hesitated then finished the call]
Bob: [a laugh] I don’t think owls hold grudges, so you should be fine. I’m calling it a night. Thanks for getting back to me. Goodnight.
Harry: Goodnight.
Harry felt drained, the length of the day finally wearing down on him as his jaw popped on a giant yawn. He almost choked on his tongue when his radio went off again, the loud crackle and sarcastic tones of someone who was definitely not Bob pushing through his sleepy stupor.
Unknown: Well, nice of you to finally show up. Do you even know what time it is?
Harry: Um, hello? Who is this?
Unknown: Tower 8, of course.
Ah well that explains it. It was the seasoned ranger Bob had told him about, the one who had taken care of his tower and prepared everything before he got here.
Harry: Ah, I owe you a thank you. Bob told me you prepared my tower for me before I arrived.
Tower 8: That I did, but I thought you would be here earlier. I was asked to stay up until you got in, greet you, that sort of thing. Just didn’t realise it would cut into my beauty sleep.
Bob: Cool it, Diego. James stopped at Pop’s on the way in during the rainstorm. Now, I’m turning off my radio and getting some sleep, as should both of you. Play nice.
Tower 8: Right, quite a doozy, that one. Well, glad you’re here, James . I’m Diego. Please let me know if you need anything or have any questions. You can reach me directly on Channel 8.
Harry: Thank you, Diego. Goodnight.
Harry had no idea why Diego emphasized his name like that as if he was offended to hear it. Sure, it took a little bit to get used to, considering he’d been called Harry all his life; it was his name, after all. No one here knew that his actual name was Harry Potter, that James was his father's name. All of his documentation had James Evans on it, courtesy of a few tricks up Hermione’s sleeve.
He hadn’t wanted to be hired solely because of his name, so he thought it was best to change it. Granted, he was not as well known in America as in the UK, but that didn’t really matter. He wanted to be anonymous, unknown, and free to do as he pleased. He had an odd feeling about his neighbour, but considering the distance between their towers, he just shrugged and let it go for now.
Harry was exhausted. The all-day travel, the motorbike ride across winding roads, and finally, the late-night broom flight had his eyelids drooping where he sat. He had just enough wherewithal to toe his boots off and shove his pie in the minifridge before flicking the light switch and burying himself under a haphazard pile of blankets on top of his bare cot; his sleeping bag never made it out of the heap of warmth.