In Dumbledore's grand plan, Owen was the prime candidate to become Headmaster—two terms from now. That was why he constantly nurtured the boy's ability to see the bigger picture, encouraging him to engage deeply with the four Houses: to understand them, participate in their lives, and guide them.
However, in Owen's heart, personal strength was the priority. He needed to study, read, and train—arming his mind with knowledge and strengthening his body through discipline.
Naturally, this led to scheduling conflicts.
What made it worse was that Professor McGonagall had once again rejected his application for a Time-Turner. Her reasoning left the young wizard speechless.
"My dear, you are only twelve years old. You don't need to put yourself under such immense pressure. You need to relax, to find joy and experience life. Studying isn't everything. You are still a child, and you should do the things children do."
With a young wizard like Owen, force never worked. But as a woman, McGonagall wielded gentleness like a master, effectively hard-locking the boy into submission.
As for applying to other professors?
That wouldn't work. While the other Heads of House were influential, they weren't the Deputy Headmistress. A Time-Turner application required the Deputy Head's signature. Even Dumbledore couldn't bypass that protocol easily.
But as the saying goes, "When one door closes, another opens." While the Time-Turner was a no-go, Professor McGonagall agreed to teach him the Apparition spell.
Owen had wanted to learn this pop-and-you're-gone magic for ages. But Dumbledore had previously told him it was advanced magic requiring a rock-solid foundation, and since Anti-Apparition wards covered Hogwarts anyway, Owen had shelved the idea.
Now, hearing he could finally learn it, Owen was ecstatic!
It was the ultimate survival spell. If he couldn't win a fight, pop, he was gone. What could anyone do about it?
What? Anti-Apparition Jinx? Even better. He could fly—fast as a jet. How were they going to catch him?
Fine, let's say the enemy could fly too. But the moment he flew out of the anti-Apparition zone? Pop. Gone without a trace. Wouldn't that be infuriating for them?
Before he even started learning, Owen had already figured out exactly how he'd use it!
He adjusted his schedule, squeezing out an extra hour specifically to practice Apparition.
This magic was dangerous. There was a real risk of Splinching—leaving body parts behind. So, when practicing, someone had to supervise him to reattach any missing pieces immediately if things went wrong.
What reassured McGonagall was the boy's discipline. He didn't rush into reckless attempts. Instead, after getting the basics, he dove into studying the theoretical principles first.
Magic was never just about chanting a spell and waving a wand. You had to deeply understand the core mechanics. The deeper the understanding, the smoother the casting, the higher the success rate, and the greater the power.
"My dear, you always put my mind at ease."
McGonagall gave him a warm hug, turning Owen into a contented cat squinting in comfort...
However, the good times didn't last long.
Just as he mastered the basics of Apparition and prepared to dive into deeper practice, a notice threw his plans into chaos again.
"Me? Substitute for Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Dumbledore nodded with a smile. Owen immediately looked at Professor Snape standing nearby and spoke bluntly, "Isn't that inappropriate? I think Professor Snape is far more suitable than I am."
Snape's expression softened considerably...
But Dumbledore's next words reset Snape's face to its default scowl. "I'm afraid that's not possible. Severus's Potions classes are also a core subject, and the schedule is very tight. There would be conflicts. So, Owen, you will substitute for years one through four for a while. Next year, I will find a new professor."
Glancing at a certain professor's sour face, Owen sighed. "Alright. But I hope Professor Snape can help me prepare the lessons. I'm still a student, after all. I have many shortcomings and still need to learn."
Dumbledore was delighted. Perhaps recalling the image of the boy snuggling into his mother's arms in the Mirror of Erised, his laughter grew louder. "Hahaha! Severus, you'll agree to that, won't you?"
Snape's expression improved again. If Owen used his lesson plans, it was basically like he was teaching half the class. That thought was comforting. Besides, Owen was only covering years one through four. That still left years five through seven up for grabs.
"Owen, you and Severus have such a good relationship."
"Yes. In my opinion, if Professor Snape could let go of the knot in his heart, he would be the most likely candidate to become the next legendary wizard within ten years."
Dumbledore stopped stroking his beard. Snape's gaze locked onto the boy. Owen didn't stop.
"Just as you are a legend in Magic, Master Flamel in Alchemy, and Master Newt in Magizoology, Professor Snape will become the new legendary wizard in Potions."
Dumbledore couldn't smile anymore. If a young student could see it, how could a legendary wizard like him not? He knew exactly what Snape's "knot" was. But... there was nothing he could do.
A wrong path taken in youth required a lifetime of atonement. The price was too high.
"I have no need to become a legend..." Snape's voice was hoarse. He stared into the boy's eyes and spoke slowly, emphasizing every word. "Replace me. Surpass me. Can you do that?"
"Yes!"
Owen understood what he meant. "Professor, I will surpass you in Potions. I will surpass the Headmaster in Magic. I will surpass Professor McGonagall in Transfiguration. I will surpass Professor Flitwick in Charms. I will surpass Professor Sprout in Herbology. One day, I will take your places and continue to protect Hogwarts!"
For the first time, Snape hugged the young wizard. Hard.
---
"I heard Professor Quirrell is in trouble. Who's going to teach our class?"
"I don't know. The school hasn't announced anything."
While the students speculated and whispered, the classroom door banged open. Owen, draped in a black cloak, strode in with Snape's signature walk. He marched up to the podium, whipped his cloak around, and kept his face stern.
"Now. Put away your textbooks. Take out your wands. In my class, you will not only use your brains, but also your bodies. Memorize the feeling of every spell you cast!!!"
The young wizards were terrified...
If the face and height weren't different, they would have sworn Snape was teaching them!
Owen, catching a glimpse of a disappearing robe hem outside the door, breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
This substitute teaching job... so much pressure...