Disclaimer: The Harry Potter series is not mine. Nor is Mr. R, because I highly doubt I can own a person. Yes Mr. R is a real person, my old teacher actually.

Harold R (His last name will be kept confidential for security purposes. I doubt he wants his name exposed to the public)…

We all know Mr. R is not what he seems. Throughout the years, he has puzzled an array of students entering and leaving his classroom.

What is he really?

My friend and I have an idea. And it may sound farfetched, but it is plausible. Do you want to know what the idea is?

Well, we believe that Mr. R is really Harry Potter. How can Mr. R be Harry Potter you ask? Well, our idea is pseudocide. Let the curtains be lifted.

Mr. R's POV

The bell rang. I was sitting on the countertop, waiting for my class to settle down. The noise level took a while to die down, despite my pointed looks at the loud students. It was the last week of school, and they still didn't quite down right away. One would think that by now, they would know at least that much.

"Okay, today is an easy day. The boys in the class, get to sign my yearbook today. Well, if they want to. And that's pretty much it. Do whatever you want."

The last week of school. The kids where crowded around in groups signing yearbooks and chatting about the summer that was to come. And some of the students were just sitting there in utter boredom. I quickly took role, and set them free to do as they wished. The class started mingling with one another, and the noise level in the class grew once again. Obviously. So, I settled down in front of my laptop and surfed the net.

"Mr. R?" A timid voice called out to me. I looked up at the mention of my name. The girl who had called out to me was standing there, in front of my desk. A few others of my students were crowded around my desk, whispering amongst themselves. One of the girls was holding something behind her back and she stood there, shifting her weight form foot to foot.

"Yes?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She smiled at me nervously.

"Umm…Stacey and I made this for you. It's our end of the year present for you," She stuttered out, handing me a pink piece of cardboard. I took it from her, and looked at it, slightly puzzled. Though, I did not show my puzzlement.

Upon grasping it, I realized it was a book. A sloppily put together book, but a book none the less. There was no title. I quirked an eyebrow. How interesting. I thanked the girls and they headed back to their table giggling and whispering in hushed tones, all the way.

I put the book to the side, telling myself to read it later. But every few minutes, my eyes wandered to the pink book. A book of theories about me. How quaint. I snorted quietly to myself. After all, it's not likely that they'd actually guess correctly.

I noticed that every once in a while, some of the girls would look up at me curiously. They were probably wondering when I was going to read the book. I smirked to myself. It was fun to make them anxious. To mess with them a little. So, I restrained myself form picking the book up and flipping thought the pages.

But, eventually, my curiosity got the better of me. After all, I have never gotten a present such as this. The most common present I have gotten from students were candies, cards, and pictures. But never something like this. It looked very...intriguing.

I carefully picked up the book in my hands, examining the binding. It was cardboard with paper glued on top. The front and back's widths were uneven. It seemed as if the folding had not gone too well. The cover was white, with a stripe of pink on the side. I ran my hands over the bumpy surface.

I opened the cover flap to see a pink cover page. The Great Big Book of Theories. Mr R Edtion. Wow...how...odd. After that, there was a copyright page, also in pink. I examined the small font closely, noticing all the little details. They really had gone all out. All the little copyright symbols and copyright laws and restrictions were there. Next was an authors and consultants page… Hmm...it said that a lot of my class was involved in this book. I turned the page again, and was faced with the Table of Contents.

I skimmed the table, smiling slightly to myself, when suddenly, I froze. There it was. Harry Potter. Page 5. Right under the Introduction. My eyes widened. My mind raced. Did they know? If so, how?

I schooled my features into a calm mask, hidng my apprehension. My dread.

I quickly flipped past the introduction, to page 5. I read the title. Harry James Potter. My eyes wandered down the page, to the first paragraph. I read it

"Harry Potter?! How can Mr. Ross be Harry Potter you ask? Aww come on it's not THAT farfetched…okay maybe it is a teeny bit. But we have proof! -drum roll- Lift the curtains! -Curtains are lifted- "

Proof? They had proof? How did they find out? No! This cannot be true! They couldn't have known! Not when I had held this secret for so many years. I took a deep breath and started to read more, ignoring my class.

Yes, My friend and I really made this book for our teacher and gave it to him. However, I don't quite rememer his reactions...so that part of it is made up. And the Idea that Mr. R is really Harry Potter is only a theory. I am not saying that he is really for sure, Harry Potter). I was just bored so I decided to make a fanfic about it. Once again, I have no life...Woe is me.