Chapter Text
In his third year, Owen got to choose his electives for the first time, a novelty that didn’t wear off until he chose wrong in his fifth year, but that’s not the point. In his third year, Owen chose to take the Muggle Studies class that Hogwarts offered. When his mum asked why he wanted to take a class focused on Muggles (he was, after all, a half-blood) and he simply said,
“I dunno, it’ll be funny to see what they make of Muggle life. The professor probably won’t even know what they’re talking about.”
When he waltzed into the first-floor classroom on the first day of classes, he was expecting a wizard, maybe with hair so grey it was flecked with white, the smell of dust permeating the room. What he was not expecting, however, was to see a perky witch standing at the head of the classroom, no older than his mum. She had fiery curls that fell over her shoulders in layers and was dressed entirely in Muggle clothing save for the grey robes that swayed as she flicked her wand.
“Hello, my darlings!” She crowed once they’d all taken seats at the tables scattered around the room. Her wand was still held aloft, controlling the chalk that was spelling out Professor Donna Noble on the blackboard. “Welcome to your first Muggle Studies class! I’m Professor Noble, I’m going to be your Muggle Studies teacher for this year.”
She glanced around the room, looking at all of her bright, fresh-faced students and chuckled. “And I can see that I am not what some of you were expecting, but I can assure you, I do actually know what I’m talking about. You don’t spend the majority of your teenage and adult life in the Muggle world and not learn a thing or two.”
Owen wasn’t exactly sure what was so familiar and comfortable about Professor Noble, but there was something kind about her eyes, her smile that just let him relax into his seat.
His Muggle Studies class became a sort of safe haven for him. He started to look forward to the days when he could spend hours listening to Professor Noble ramble about the way that Muggle things work. It was interesting to hear a witch talk about the world he grew up in; so much passion for the things that he took for granted before starting at Hogwarts.
There was a day, about two months into the term when Owen had the worst few hours of his Hogwarts career. He’d missed breakfast after he overslept, tripped down the stairs into the dungeon and was berated by the potions professor for almost, keyword almost , over-mixing his potion and melting his cauldron. So by the time he had staggered into his Muggle Studies class, he was almost dead on his feet.
Professor Noble, of course, clocked this almost immediately. “Owen, mate. Are you okay? You’re looking a little bit- erm, worse for wear.”
“Ah, Professor. I’m-” He rubbed his shoulder which was still smarting from where he’d landed on it that morning. “I’m fine, just didn’t sleep well last night.”
“Ahuh. Well- in that case, you can focus on today’s lesson, hmm?” Professor Noble didn’t look very convinced, watching as Owen blinked a few times, focusing on the professor standing in front of him. He shook his head, staggering a little bit on his feet and, oh maybe he did hit his head when he fell down the stairs. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, kid. C’mon, follow me.”
Professor Noble led him to her office in the back of the classroom. It was the first time that he’d been back to the office in the Muggle Studies classroom, but it made so much sense. It was lined with colourful posters and a squashy couch with mismatched throw pillows scattered haphazardly on the cushions. The chair that sat behind her desk had a fuzzy cardigan draped over the back of it. The desk had stacks of Muggle books in one of the corners, some that Owen recognised from his mum’s bookshelf at home. Half-graded essays were stacked in the other corner, red ink markings all over them.
“Okay, doll. Here’s the deal.” She sat him down on the couch and arranged the pillows around him before miraculously pulling a blanket from somewhere Owen couldn’t see. “I’m going to give you some tea with a little bit of essence of dittany in it to make your head feel better. You’re going to sleep it off in here while I go teach this lot the right way up on a TV remote. And then, we’re going to go up to the hospital wing and have good old Madam Pomfrey take a look at that shoulder for ya’. Okay?”
Owen probably looked like a deer in headlights because Professor Noble just laughed. “Okay, Owen. I’ve got to go teach, but you’ll be okay in here. Come get me if you need anything.”
She summoned a cup of tea and a small brown vial labelled Dittany . She unstoppered it and dropped a few drops into the steaming tea before handing it over to the boy. She smiled a small smile before standing up and making her way to the door to the office. “You know, Owen. Sometimes you just need a good cry with a friend. Or someone trusted. It’s okay to take breaks, darling.”
As Professor Noble shut the door behind her, Owen could feel tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. He sniffed a little, taking a big sip of the hot tea.
Owen was curled up on the couch asleep when there was a sudden commotion in the small office. “Donna! C’mon let’s-”
Before he could open his eyes in panic though, he heard a loud shushing from the desk in the corner. “Oi, spaceman! Shut up, you idiot. The poor kid is sleeping.”
“I- huh?” He heard the confused voice of his astronomy professor being quickly quieted by Professor Noble.
“He’s had a rough day. Wouldn’t tell me what, but he was really out of it when he showed up to my lesson.” There was a light shuffling of papers as Professor Noble continued to grade essays. “He needed a break, so I made him some tea with a little dittany in it to ease the aches and gave him a blanket. He was out before I was even out the door.”
“Awe, poor kid.” He heard Professor Smith say. “I’ve been getting waves of exhaustion off him in classes. He must not be sleeping well.”
Owen hears Professor Noble mumble her assent, flipping another page on her desk. “Okay then, Doctor. What was so important that you came in here like a hippogriff with his head cut off?”
“Oh! Right!” Professor Smith burst out, getting another round of shushing from Professor Noble. “Donna, I got a ping on the Tardis. There’s some sort of alien distress call coming from a little bit out of Earth’s orbit. Want to go check it out with me?”
“Oh, Doctor.” He heard Professor Noble say, dropping the pen with a small clack. “I can’t just leave Owen here by himself. You know Jack would have my head if he-”
But Owen never got to hear the end of that statement, and never found out who this mysterious Jack was because just then there was a loud crash from outside the castle. “Donna!”
He heard both professors stand, Professor Noble letting out a large sigh. “Yes, Doctor. I heard that. Let’s get a move on then.”
Owen listened as the steps got closer to the couch he was “asleep” on. Professor Noble shook him lightly. “Owen, sweetie. I’m going to take you to Madam Pomfrey now. You’ve had a good nap and Professor Spaceman over here needs my help with something. Are you okay to walk?”
He blinks his eyes open to see both of his professors standing over him, looking more than a little bit concerned. Owen nods, pushing his way up to a sitting position. “I- I can get myself up to the infirmary, Professor. Er- Professors.”
Professor Noble narrowed her eyes slightly, looking him over before Professor Smith put a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, alright. But I expect to see you all healed up tomorrow for class or I will frogmarch you back there instead of teaching. Capisce?”
He nodded, stretching out his legs as he stood up and gathered his things. “I promise, Professor. I’ll be okay.”
As he walked to the hospital wing, it dawned on him that Professor Smith was babbling on about nonsense when he was pretending to still be asleep. Something about aliens and spaceships and distress calls. And the more that he contemplated this conversation, the more he decided that it was probably just a dream. He was probably still asleep. That had to be it.