It wasn’t until after Harry had already Apparated that he thought about the coordinates. He was most definitely in Wiltshire. He squinted and thought that he could see Malfoy Manor off in the distance. Odd place for an owl nursery. He took in the site about a hundred yards in front of him. It was a large hangar that looked like an oversized greenhouse, only there were many small openings spaced uniformly along the top of the walls just under the roof. Harry surmised that the owls were allowed to come and go as they pleased. As he thought about the construct of the building, he realized that he knew nothing about magical owls, even whether they were different from regular owls. It struck him funny that Hagrid had never covered them in his class. Harry considered this; of all the magical creatures he knew of, owls were the ones most intertwined with wizard daily life, and yet he had no idea just how they knew what they knew or did what they did.
It was a wonderfully warm summer afternoon. The door was open so he stepped across the threshold. The interior walls were lined with fairly large sized wooden bird boxes with large openings. Several trees grew from the center of the hangar and the branches created a tapestry of perches across the attic space. He could see about ten owls, all different breeds, atop the branches and a few more that peeked their heads out of their box homes. One snowy owl caught his eye and he had to push down the pang of guilt that tugged at his heart.
He continued to look around. In the corner opposite the doorway, there was a single small wooden desk covered in scraps of parchment and a few quills. All was quiet except for a trickling fountain with a bronze owl in its center and the occasional hoot or trill from a real owl.
"Hullo?" Harry called out tentatively.
"Hello?" a startled voice called from the back.
Harry followed the sound, traveling deeper into the hangar. "Umm, Eeylops sent me." He had to duck under several branches to get to the back. Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Standing in front of one the nesting boxes was Draco Malfoy, his attention solidly focused on the fuzzy brown owlet in the palm of his hand. Malfoy was making soft chirping noises and rubbing the top of the owlet's head with the most gentle of touches.
Harry blinked several times and tried to reconcile the image with the last time he had seen Malfoy. His face seemed a little older, but really hadn't changed much. His hair was a little longer and he had it pulled back in a neat ponytail, but basically he looked the same. It had been almost four years since the hearing.
Malfoy was exiting the Ministry with his family. He bumped into Harry in his haste to get to the Floo. "Sorry," he said before he had realized that it was Harry. Malfoy's expression immediately changed from apologetic to extremely guarded.
"It's all right. I wanted to talk to you," Harry said, trying to keep his emotions in check.
"I suppose you want me to thank you."
"No, I wanted to… I don't know what I wanted." Harry shook his head. "I'm just glad it's over."
Malfoy stared at him in obvious confusion. There had been so much between them, between Harry and all of the Malfoys, so much that despite past enmity, Harry felt strangely connected. In that instant he came to the realization that he could no longer hate Draco Malfoy.
Harry held out his hand. "Good luck."
Malfoy met his eyes with skepticism. Over by the Floo, Narcissa and Lucius watched with interest. Hesitantly Malfoy took Harry's hand for the briefest of handshakes and then headed to the Floo without looking back.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked from a few feet away.
Malfoy didn't look up. He carefully returned the bird to its nest and dusted off his hands. Harry remained silent as he watched Malfoy collect his thoughts.
"What are you doing here?" Malfoy asked evenly, the effort so great that Harry could hear a slight tremor in the other man's voice. "I'm fairly certain that all my permits are up to date, and the yearly inspection of the Manor was only two months ago."
"Eeylops sent me. I'm looking for an owl. This is your place?"
Malfoy studied him. "I breed owls and sell them to pet shops. I don't—"
"He told me that. I haven't— never mind." The tension was so thick that Harry felt as if he was swimming in treacle. As he turned to head for the entrance, he smacked his forehead on a low-lying branch. "Ow!" He staggered back a step and rubbed the spot he knew would be black and blue by nightfall. Malfoy was snickering behind him. Harry took a steadying breath and then ducked down low to make his exit. Malfoy followed several steps behind.
When he reached the door, Malfoy asked him, "Why did you come here?"
Harry turned around expecting to see one of Malfoy's haughty sneers. Instead all he saw was a soft inquisitive expression. "Hermione and Ron bought me an owl for my birthday, only I didn't quite connect with him. I took him back to Eeylops and tried three others." Harry didn't know how to explain it. "They just weren't… right."
"Hard to please, eh?" Malfoy said, sounding much more like the arrogant sod that Harry remembered.
Harry shook his head. "This was a mistake."
"Why? My owls aren't good enough for The Chosen One?"
"What is your problem? I came because Eeylops thought that I might do better with a newly trained owl that had never been owned before. He didn't have any and thought that you might, but obviously I'm wasting my time."
"Well you are wasting your time. All my owls are newly hatched, except for my breeding pairs," Malfoy said proudly. "I should have around ten owls available in the late fall and a few more in the winter."
"Oh." For the life of him, Harry could not imagine Malfoy as an owl breeder. The boy Harry remembered had contempt for any creature less than a pureblood wizard with a seven-generation pedigree, although he did remember Malfoy being affectionate with his eagle owl whenever it delivered his sweets. Harry always assumed it was simply pride. Perhaps it had been more.
"Why can't you find an owl that you like?" Malfoy's question sounded sincere.
"I haven't had an owl since Hedwig. She died in the war. She saved my life." Harry nearly choked on the admission. It had been a long time since he had talked about his beloved snowy owl. Malfoy remained quiet and Harry thought he saw a hint of sorrow in his eyes, so he further explained, "After the war Ron and Hermione lived with me. I borrowed their owls whenever I needed one. Sometimes I used Ginny's, but that was back when we were dating. I live alone now, and Ron and Hermione thought it was time."
Suddenly, a brown owl covered with small white spots swooped down from a nearby branch and landed on Harry's shoulder. He was medium sized, maybe ten inches tall. He had large yellow eyes that seemed bright in contrast to his white face.
"Why, hello," Harry said. The owl gave a low "wood" sound and nibbled on Harry's hair with his sharp black beak.
"Think you're pretty smart, eh Romeo? I'd say you've got your signals crossed."
Romeo looked over at Malfoy and then turned his attention back to Harry.
"Romeo?" Harry asked.
"Yes, his name is Romeo and he is an utter slut," Malfoy said, more to the bird than to Harry.
Harry chuckled, and Romeo let out another "wood" call. "What kind of owl is he?"
"He's a Boreal owl. Sometimes they're called Tengmalm's. Loyal birds. They're fairly uncommon, but can be bred easily."
"He's one of your breeders?" Harry held out his arm and Romeo stepped sideways down towards his elbow.
"Romeo? Hardly. He's useless," Malfoy said. Despite his words, there was fondness in his tone. "Tried three different Boreal females before I gave up. I have two pairs with broods right now. He's the resident babysitter. He stays for the free food."
Harry looked into Romeo's eyes. "Maybe he just hasn't met the right girl yet."
Malfoy snickered. "Not quite."
Searching Malfoy's expression, Harry tried to make sense of that statement, but couldn't. "I suppose I should go. Sorry to take up your time." Harry moved his arm up and down to get Romeo to fly off, but the bird did not budge.
"What are you up to, Romeo?" Malfoy asked with intense curiosity.
"Go on," Harry said gently, and attempted to shoo Romeo away.
"Fine then," Malfoy stated. "Opportunistic whelp. You're smarter than I gave you credit, Death Eater to Savior of the Universe in one swoop."
"Huh?"
"He wants to go with you, Potter. Are you that daft? Don't answer that."
"I thought you didn’t have any owls for sale."
"He's not for sale. He's his own bird."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused.
"He moved in on his own accord after the war. I tried to send him back to his original owner, but had no luck. Perhaps they… anyway, his freeloading days are over. He's decided to take you up on your job offer."
"But I didn't—"
"Sure you did."
"Let me at least pay you."
"Don't need your money, Potter. Goodbye Romeo. Have a nice life." Draco waved his hand with a vibrant flourish.
"But."
"Goodbye, Potter."
Draco looked at him with such finality that Harry knew the conversation was over unless he was ready to draw his wand, which he wasn't – not over an owl. "Thank you. Really, I mean it."
"No need to thank me."
"If it doesn't work out, can I send him back?"
Malfoy studied Romeo for a moment, and then a smile ghosted his lips. "I think Romeo has things well in hand."
Harry didn't know what to make of that statement either. "I Apparated here. How do I get him home?" Harry asked, hoping that Draco would have a solution.
"You really are daft." Draco strode over to the desk and scribbled something on a small scrap of parchment. "What's your address?"
"My address? Oh," Harry said, embarrassed. "Number twelve Grimmauld Place, London." The Fidelius Charm was long broken.
Draco wrote out the address, and then attached the note to Romeo's leg. "Off you go. Don't let the door hit you
It wasn’t until after Harry had already Apparated that he thought about the coordinates. He was most definitely in Wiltshire. He squinted and thought that he could see Malfoy Manor off in the distance. Odd place for an owl nursery. He took in the site about a hundred yards in front of him. It was a large hangar that looked like an oversized greenhouse, only there were many small openings spaced uniformly along the top of the walls just under the roof. Harry surmised that the owls were allowed to come and go as they pleased. As he thought about the construct of the building, he realized that he knew nothing about magical owls, even whether they were different from regular owls. It struck him funny that Hagrid had never covered them in his class. Harry considered this; of all the magical creatures he knew of, owls were the ones most intertwined with wizard daily life, and yet he had no idea just how they knew what they knew or did what they did.
It was a wonderfully warm summer afternoon. The door was open so he stepped across the threshold. The interior walls were lined with fairly large sized wooden bird boxes with large openings. Several trees grew from the center of the hangar and the branches created a tapestry of perches across the attic space. He could see about ten owls, all different breeds, atop the branches and a few more that peeked their heads out of their box homes. One snowy owl caught his eye and he had to push down the pang of guilt that tugged at his heart.
He continued to look around. In the corner opposite the doorway, there was a single small wooden desk covered in scraps of parchment and a few quills. All was quiet except for a trickling fountain with a bronze owl in its center and the occasional hoot or trill from a real owl.
"Hullo?" Harry called out tentatively.
"Hello?" a startled voice called from the back.
Harry followed the sound, traveling deeper into the hangar. "Umm, Eeylops sent me." He had to duck under several branches to get to the back. Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Standing in front of one the nesting boxes was Draco Malfoy, his attention solidly focused on the fuzzy brown owlet in the palm of his hand. Malfoy was making soft chirping noises and rubbing the top of the owlet's head with the most gentle of touches.
Harry blinked several times and tried to reconcile the image with the last time he had seen Malfoy. His face seemed a little older, but really hadn't changed much. His hair was a little longer and he had it pulled back in a neat ponytail, but basically he looked the same. It had been almost four years since the hearing.
Malfoy was exiting the Ministry with his family. He bumped into Harry in his haste to get to the Floo. "Sorry," he said before he had realized that it was Harry. Malfoy's expression immediately changed from apologetic to extremely guarded.
"It's all right. I wanted to talk to you," Harry said, trying to keep his emotions in check.
"I suppose you want me to thank you."
"No, I wanted to… I don't know what I wanted." Harry shook his head. "I'm just glad it's over."
Malfoy stared at him in obvious confusion. There had been so much between them, between Harry and all of the Malfoys, so much that despite past enmity, Harry felt strangely connected. In that instant he came to the realization that he could no longer hate Draco Malfoy.
Harry held out his hand. "Good luck."
Malfoy met his eyes with skepticism. Over by the Floo, Narcissa and Lucius watched with interest. Hesitantly Malfoy took Harry's hand for the briefest of handshakes and then headed to the Floo without looking back.
"Malfoy?" Harry asked from a few feet away.
Malfoy didn't look up. He carefully returned the bird to its nest and dusted off his hands. Harry remained silent as he watched Malfoy collect his thoughts.
"What are you doing here?" Malfoy asked evenly, the effort so great that Harry could hear a slight tremor in the other man's voice. "I'm fairly certain that all my permits are up to date, and the yearly inspection of the Manor was only two months ago."
"Eeylops sent me. I'm looking for an owl. This is your place?"
Malfoy studied him. "I breed owls and sell them to pet shops. I don't—"
"He told me that. I haven't— never mind." The tension was so thick that Harry felt as if he was swimming in treacle. As he turned to head for the entrance, he smacked his forehead on a low-lying branch. "Ow!" He staggered back a step and rubbed the spot he knew would be black and blue by nightfall. Malfoy was snickering behind him. Harry took a steadying breath and then ducked down low to make his exit. Malfoy followed several steps behind.
When he reached the door, Malfoy asked him, "Why did you come here?"
Harry turned around expecting to see one of Malfoy's haughty sneers. Instead all he saw was a soft inquisitive expression. "Hermione and Ron bought me an owl for my birthday, only I didn't quite connect with him. I took him back to Eeylops and tried three others." Harry didn't know how to explain it. "They just weren't… right."
"Hard to please, eh?" Malfoy said, sounding much more like the arrogant sod that Harry remembered.
Harry shook his head. "This was a mistake."
"Why? My owls aren't good enough for The Chosen One?"
"What is your problem? I came because Eeylops thought that I might do better with a newly trained owl that had never been owned before. He didn't have any and thought that you might, but obviously I'm wasting my time."
"Well you are wasting your time. All my owls are newly hatched, except for my breeding pairs," Malfoy said proudly. "I should have around ten owls available in the late fall and a few more in the winter."
"Oh." For the life of him, Harry could not imagine Malfoy as an owl breeder. The boy Harry remembered had contempt for any creature less than a pureblood wizard with a seven-generation pedigree, although he did remember Malfoy being affectionate with his eagle owl whenever it delivered his sweets. Harry always assumed it was simply pride. Perhaps it had been more.
"Why can't you find an owl that you like?" Malfoy's question sounded sincere.
"I haven't had an owl since Hedwig. She died in the war. She saved my life." Harry nearly choked on the admission. It had been a long time since he had talked about his beloved snowy owl. Malfoy remained quiet and Harry thought he saw a hint of sorrow in his eyes, so he further explained, "After the war Ron and Hermione lived with me. I borrowed their owls whenever I needed one. Sometimes I used Ginny's, but that was back when we were dating. I live alone now, and Ron and Hermione thought it was time."
Suddenly, a brown owl covered with small white spots swooped down from a nearby branch and landed on Harry's shoulder. He was medium sized, maybe ten inches tall. He had large yellow eyes that seemed bright in contrast to his white face.
"Why, hello," Harry said. The owl gave a low "wood" sound and nibbled on Harry's hair with his sharp black beak.
"Think you're pretty smart, eh Romeo? I'd say you've got your signals crossed."
Romeo looked over at Malfoy and then turned his attention back to Harry.
"Romeo?" Harry asked.
"Yes, his name is Romeo and he is an utter slut," Malfoy said, more to the bird than to Harry.
Harry chuckled, and Romeo let out another "wood" call. "What kind of owl is he?"
"He's a Boreal owl. Sometimes they're called Tengmalm's. Loyal birds. They're fairly uncommon, but can be bred easily."
"He's one of your breeders?" Harry held out his arm and Romeo stepped sideways down towards his elbow.
"Romeo? Hardly. He's useless," Malfoy said. Despite his words, there was fondness in his tone. "Tried three different Boreal females before I gave up. I have two pairs with broods right now. He's the resident babysitter. He stays for the free food."
Harry looked into Romeo's eyes. "Maybe he just hasn't met the right girl yet."
Malfoy snickered. "Not quite."
Searching Malfoy's expression, Harry tried to make sense of that statement, but couldn't. "I suppose I should go. Sorry to take up your time." Harry moved his arm up and down to get Romeo to fly off, but the bird did not budge.
"What are you up to, Romeo?" Malfoy asked with intense curiosity.
"Go on," Harry said gently, and attempted to shoo Romeo away.
"Fine then," Malfoy stated. "Opportunistic whelp. You're smarter than I gave you credit, Death Eater to Savior of the Universe in one swoop."
"Huh?"
"He wants to go with you, Potter. Are you that daft? Don't answer that."
"I thought you didn’t have any owls for sale."
"He's not for sale. He's his own bird."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused.
"He moved in on his own accord after the war. I tried to send him back to his original owner, but had no luck. Perhaps they… anyway, his freeloading days are over. He's decided to take you up on your job offer."
"But I didn't—"
"Sure you did."
"Let me at least pay you."
"Don't need your money, Potter. Goodbye Romeo. Have a nice life." Draco waved his hand with a vibrant flourish.
"But."
"Goodbye, Potter."
Draco looked at him with such finality that Harry knew the conversation was over unless he was ready to draw his wand, which he wasn't – not over an owl. "Thank you. Really, I mean it."
"No need to thank me."
"If it doesn't work out, can I send him back?"
Malfoy studied Romeo for a moment, and then a smile ghosted his lips. "I think Romeo has things well in hand."
Harry didn't know what to make of that statement either. "I Apparated here. How do I get him home?" Harry asked, hoping that Draco would have a solution.
"You really are daft." Draco strode over to the desk and scribbled something on a small scrap of parchment. "What's your address?"
"My address? Oh," Harry said, embarrassed. "Number twelve Grimmauld Place, London." The Fidelius Charm was long broken.
Draco wrote out the address, and then attached the note to Romeo's leg. "Off you go. Don't let the door hit you
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