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While he is dying

Chapter Text

"I'm taking the kids!" Ginny yelled angrily at him, slamming the door behind her.
There was the scuffle of small feet, the squeaking of the door opening and closing again, and then silence.

Alone, Harry sighed, slumping onto the table. It hadn't been very long into his relationship with Ginny that he realised he just didn't feel the same towards her. Or rather, he didn't feel anything.

He found himself wishing he was staring into twinkling blue eyes, rather than his wife's dull orbs.
He sighed again.
He missed Hogwarts. Things seemed simple, back then. Or simple at least in comparison to now (which was saying something). He missed the headteacher and how calmly he dealt with everything, even at Harry's worst moments.
He shook his head.
The older man was gone, dying right in front of his eyes.
Harry stood, knocking over the chair behind him. Errol protested at the noise.
"Sorry." He apologised.

He had meant to send Errol back to the Weasleys, but Errol seemed incapable of flying since his last incident: smashing into Harry's chimney; and had remained in his house until he'd shown signs of recovering.

Hands in his pocket, he walked towards the fridge, groaning inwardly when he saw that it was empty.
Errol squawked.
"Fancy picking up some Butterbeer?" He suggested.
Errol tilted his head to one side and squawked again.
Harry rolled his eyes. Errol refused to do most things for him, mainly because he was a terrible flyer, but also because he'd left Hogwarts. None of the Weasleys actually went to Hogwarts now, and the children had their own owls, all far more capable than Errol.
Harry blamed the owl for getting lazy, but really, they both knew that Errol missed Hogwarts and had grown increasingly stubborn.
Secretly, Harry wondered if Errol had actually met another owl there, romantically, and perhaps that was why he had attachment issues to the place, but had never admitted it directly. Errol probably would've killed him.

"I want to go back too." He told the owl.
Errol made loud sound of strangled of agreement that deafened him.
"Voldemort!" Harry said in surprise. He had taken to using Voldemort's name instead of swearing blatantly in Muggle language, and Errol's death sound had shocked the life out of him. "Youvegottastopdoingthat!" Harry told the owl severely. Errol looked at him innocently. Harry shook his finger menacingly. This wasn't the first time that the owl had assumed a suicidal attitude. The owl bit him.
"Fffuuu-" Harry stammered. "You're going back tomorrow!"
Errol tilted his head as if to say 'really?'

Harry frowned, watching as the owl's eyes glittered.
With a bemused squawk, Errol fell off his perch.
Harry groaned in exasperation. He was never going to get rid of the bastard. "Anything useful you can do?" He asked the bundle of feathers on the floor.
"Pretty Polly!" The bird cooed.
Harry stared at it. "Are you flippin' kidding me."
How could an animal be so stupid? It was beyond him. Besides, owls were supposed to be intelligent.

Errol faceplanted again into the carpet.
There was a commotion underneath his feet and Errol was flapping, desperately trying to get off the floor.
Sighing, Harry picked the frantic bird up and placed him once again on his perch. "Better?"
Errol screeched.
Where the bloody fuck was Ron - Harry had to tell him he didn't want his owl anymore.
Errol was shuffling around, clearly unable to stop fidgeting. He opened and closed his beak, nodding towards Harry's jumper.
Harry stepped back. "You can't have my jumper; you can't sleep on it, you can't eat it-"
Errol lunged for his pocket, unsuccessfully trying to peck at something.
"What the bloody heck do you want?!" Harry tried to shove the bird off him.
Triumphantly, the owl emerged, a gold object in it's beak.
"What you got there, you feathery fucker?" Harry groaned, taking the object from his beak.
The gold necklace surprised him: his time turner.
The owl blinked at him innocently.
"You want me to go back?"
Errol cooed softly.
"Well I guess there's no use me staying here."
Errol flapped his wings encouragingly, and Harry felt feathers pressing against his face, a sort of affectionate embrace. He smiled. "Well, see ya."

Hogwarts was smaller than he remembered, Harry thought fondly. He wondered what year he was in. Hopefully he didn't look too young. If only he had a mirror-
A surprised squawk near him brought him abruptly out of his thoughts. "Errol?" Harry said, in disbelief.
Judging by the bird's mental wing-flaps, it seemed just as shocked as him.
'Great.' Harry thought sarcastically. 'Just what I wanted - a hopeless bird with a tendency to fuck up.'

"Hey!" A familiar voice called, "what the bloody hell are you doing with our owl?"

It was Ron.

"Oh hi," Harry smiled, "yeah sorry, it sort of followed me." ('I didn't want it to' he added inwardly).
"Er okay." Ron replied, a little stiffly.
Harry frowned. He and Ron must've had a argument recently. Great.

Seamus turned and stared at him from where he was sitting. Harry waved, grinning.
Seamus glared.
'What the heck.' Harry thought. 'Does everyone have some sort of problem with me?'

Seamus began to walk towards him.
"Merlin's beard." Ron gulped next to him. "Just remember: you've done nothing wrong."
"Yeah thanks." Harry said tightly, wracking his brain to remember what the hell he'd done wrong.

Seamus' face was red. "How dare you say that about my mother!"
"Sorry what?" Harry was genuinely confused.
"You know." He replied angrily, his hands resting on his hips.
'Ah.' Harry remembered. 'Fifth year.' Seamus hated him.

Harry glanced down, watching the other boy's fists clenching threateningly.
'Well,' Harry sighed, 'might as well go all the way.' Seamus would forgive him later on in the year.

"Yo momma so fat her patronus is a cake." Harry snorted.

Ron had told him that after Arthur Weasley picked it up from the Muggles. Molly had not been pleased with her husband 'banding around horrible insults.' Arthur had protested: "but they're Muggle insults!"
Molly hadn't been impressed or convinced, depriving him of a slice of turkey.

"What?" Seamus scowled.
'Oh shit.' Harry thought.
"Harry?" Ron whispered.
"What?" He hissed back.
"What does 'yo momma' mean?"

Harry had to refrain from laughing.

"You'll understand in a few years."
"I really think we should run."

Harry glanced at Seamus, apparently bubbling over in rage.
"Good point."

Just then, a dreamy, faint voice filled Harry's ear. He turned to look at Ron, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Hellooo my loves?" Trelawney spoke as if she was questioning everything (which she probably was) and with a lilting tone that made Harry want to punch her straight through her brainless head.
The expression on Ron's face was exactly what he was thinking: 'fuck.'

"I sense a danger at the present?" Trelawney frowned, sounding a little confused, and slightly worried.
"Neverrrr." Harry muttered sarcastically, this time actually rolling his eyes.
Errol squawked in agreement.
"Oh what a cute little bird?" Trelawney smiled, momentarily forgetting the 'danger', bending down to stroke Errol.

'R.U.N' Harry mouthed to Ron, glancing behind him at Seamus, who was frothing at the mouth.

They ran; Trelawney screaming 'danger! Danger!' After them repeatedly, Errol screeching at the commotion. He bit the professor. Trelawney screamed again, this time, because of the owl.