The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom famously moved around each year. Sometimes it would take place in a side hall, or the dungeon. A light-filled empty classroom. A tower. It changed every year to give students new experiences.
This year boasted something no other year has been able to accomplish: Harry had permission to use the chamber of secrets as a classroom.
This was for two reasons. His class, while working on defense spells, needed a little bit of history and expose. The chamber had so many tunnels and crevices, it was brimming with Founder's magic. The students would flourish if they could see the basilisk and learn about magic laws. It was also protected by one of the oldest languages and would be a safe place to hide if ever the castle was stormed again.
Although Harry had lost his ability to innately understand parseltongue after Voldemort's death, he remembered key words and phrases. "Open", "close", "kill". Harry was not a fan of the language, but it would be handy for students to know a little bit.
He met with his first hour students in an empty classroom off Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. One by one the witches and wizards slid in, looking completely terrified. They were first years from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Harry recognized a few faces from the sorting.
"Hello, good morning, good morning, hello! Yes, alright."
Once the last eleven year old had crossed the threshold, he shut the door with a flick and let them shuffle into desks. They were silent, still scared from first day nerves. He could tell muggle-borns from half-bloods, because muggle-borns had panic faces when looking at the wall paintings and half-bloods were used to at least a little magic at home.
He strutted to the front of the classroom and began writing his name on the board. Then he turned. "Hello, students. My name is Professor H. Potter. I hope you all got here alright."
He examined the tiny faces, amazed at how frightened they still seemed. Like Harry was going to open his mouth and swallow students whole.
"I'm going to do roll call first, get to know you a little bit and then we'll jump right into our first lesson. Alright?"
They nodded and mumbled in agreement.
"Anderson, Eliza?"
"Here, professor."
"Cambrell, Rory?"
"Present."
He went through the roster, marking down one student in the infirmary. Then he began.
"Was everyone able to read at least the first few chapters of Defensive Magic?"
Most students nodded firmly. A girl in the far back shook her head and raised her hand. "I wasn't allowed to open my books."
Harry understood that. She was obviously a muggle-born, the way she stared at the skeleton in the corner. It was a serious disadvantage that she hadn't been able to look anything over, however, and Harry would need to fix it.
"That's okay. I wasn't allowed to practice magic in the house I grew up in either. I expect you to work very hard in class then, and learn as much as you can during the school year. Can you do that?"
She nodded politely.
"Great. Now, let's explain to miss Burke the first two chapters of Defensive Magic. What is the first rule?"
A chubby boy in the front row raised his hand. "If you raise your wand first, it isn't defensive."
"Very good." Harry said happily. "Five points to Ravenclaw. Yes, defense is about protecting yourself. Offense protects others by destroying the enemy before he can become a problem. If I decided to attack a troll, what would it be?"
"Offense." They said together. Harry smiled deeper.
"Lovely. And if that troll attacked me?"
The class was a little louder this time. "Defense!"
"Perfect. Ten points to both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. Do you have any questions about the chapter?"
A slim blonde girl in the middle raised a shaky hand. "Yes, Miss Layton?"
"It didn't give us any spells to practice in the first chapter."
"Ah; that's because the first chapter is usually read at home, and magic is banned outside of school until you turn seventeen. But did any of you practice on the train?"
Three people raised their hands. Harry applauded. "Good! Let's see what you learned. You first, Mr. Dent."
Thomas Dent stood up, cleared his throat and drew his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa."
The paper on his desk rose an inch or so before dropping. Harry had to bite back a laugh.
"Very close. The paper knew what you wanted, and started to go. But the reason it didn't rise very far is your pronunciation. Without your wand, please say with me "win-gar-di-um Le-vi-O-sa."
All the students chanted together, "wingardium Leviosa" until Harry was satisfied. He called on random students to pronounce it for him.
"Miss Layton!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Five points! Miss Anderson!"
"Wingardium Leviosa!"
"Five points! Perfect. I feel confident in all of you now. So let's try it. I have a box of feathers in the back. You may partner up and practice raising the feathers."
All of the students at once, excited that Harry was proud of them, ran to the box of feathers and rooted around. They brought them back and began shouting "Wingardium Leviosa" over and over again.
Harry was satisfied. It wasn't actually a first year charm, it was second year. Harry allowed them to get the second year book and strategically teach them slightly older magic to get a feel for what they would be up against. He would never teach them any curses, just light hexes later into the year. The first lesson was just a taste. Something to get them excited about learning.
When Harry was satisfied that every student could lift a feather, they tried marbles and eventually books. It was amazing how contrasted their faces were. Every single student suddenly knew their own power, and that school would help it grow. For the last few minutes of class they began reading chapter three out loud. It was on disarming spells, easy stuff like "expelliarmus." Spells that Harry had wished were taught in first year. Maybe his run in with Quirell would have been less messy had he known a few disarming spells.
Before they left, he closed the book. "Thank you, students, for your willingness to learn. This class will not just be defensive skills, you'll also learn about magical creatures, ailments, and some light history. There will be tougher days than others, but the work will be fair and understandable. If you need someone to talk to or help on the work, please come and see me. For tonight, your homework will be a paragraph on chapter three and a small drawing of how to hold your wand. If you wish to practice, ask an older student to help you. That's all. Ravenclaws are in potions with Slytherin, Hufflepuffs are in charms. Off you go!"
He smiled defeatedly at all the students on their way out, very happy. He was extremely nervous before, but handled eleven year olds expertly. It would be an okay day.
XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX
"I'll say, Mr. Potter, that your first year class is doing marvelous."
Harry beamed at McGonagall. Two periods had passed and now he was struggling to make a lesson plan for fourth years. Just remember the DA. What did you teach in the DA? He said to himself. McGonagall sat in front of him, holding out a tin of biscuits. "I don't think there was a single troublemaker in the whole bunch. They told me about your lifting lesson."
"Yes. I know it's usually taught in transfigurations, but-"
She held up her hand. "It's quite alright. You trusted that with enough support they could do tackle a second year spell on their first day, and they did. Your emphasis on pronunciation made my job much easier."
Harry took a biscuit. "I'm glad. I just wished that I had known a bit more my first year. Quirell was occupied, so most of his lessons were on spotting vampires."
She snorted a proper lady snort. "I do remember. Albus couldn't find a single other person to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He didn't know that he-who-should-not-be... Oh hell, Voldemort, was on the back of his head. Albus would have had something to say about THAT."
"I can imagine."
"But you seem to be doing very well, Mr. Potter. Are you enjoying yourself?"
Was he? Harry liked the students, and he liked using his knowledge to help others. The students, knowing who he was, were fairly respectful. No Malfoys or fellow Potters around.
"As long as no students are Malfoy or Weasley quality, I should be fine."
"Ha! We should be so lucky."
She left quietly, the biscuit tin still sitting on his desk. He ate another, flipping through Fantastic Beasts and scribbling notes as quickly as possible. He wanted to cover Dragons with his fourth years, the history and uses. For these lessons, he would stick with the classroom. In two or so classes they would all move down to the chamber of secrets. The classroom work, papers and essays, were easiest to do in the classroom light.
Dragons required care. He remembered little Norbert, who had been a magical eduction his first year. Hagrid fed the baby dragon chicken-blood and brandy for the first few weeks, and then brought her meat after that. He would have to send an owl to Charlie, see if he had any tips.
The door slipped open and Malfoy strutted in. His hair was slicked back per usual. Harry dropped his pen in surprise. "What wrong?"
Malfoy's eyes bugged out. "What do you mean?"
"Well, you don't usually come to me unless there's no other choice."
"Oh. I just wanted to see how your first day was. But if I'm not wanted..."
He turned to leave, but Harry took a hold of his arm. "No, wait!"
Malfoy stiffened, feeling Harry's hand on his skin. The sleeves on the button up he wore were rolled up to his elbow, so Harry's warm hand had no buffer. Both of them realized that however innocent the touch, there was a level of intimacy to it.
"Sorry. Were you worried about me?"
Malfoy relaxed as Harry dropped his hand and sat back at his desk, dragons forgotten.
"I wasn't worried, but I've been in class with you, Potter, and I know how stupid you are sometimes." He ran a hand through his blond hair. "I just wanted to see if you were crying yet."
Harry smiled slightly. "Not yet, but thank you for that."
"My pleasure."
In an obvious moment of whim, Malfoy sat on a front row desk and stared at Harry. "Don't you want to know how my first day was?"
Now it was getting weird. "I don't know, Malfoy. How was your day?"
"I taught three transfiguration classes. It's nice to teach students that don't hate each other yet."
He was talking about them, and the thought made Harry smile. "McGonagall was here earlier, and she said roughly the same thing. But I have to ask... What made you decide to stay?"
"You mean, instead of moving on to a ministry job or a temp job? I can't get one. I'm here on a student teacher license. Because of what I had to do, and who my father is, I can't get work anywhere other than Hogwarts or under the table stuff." He sighed. "You don't know what that's like. You're a hero."
That was true, but, "don't you remember fifth year, right after Cedric passed? When I tried to warn everyone that Voldemort had returned and I became the laughing stock? Well, that's what it was like. Only I'm sure you're feeling it on a grander scale."
"I'll say. Anyways, just wanted to see if you were panicked yet. McGonagall said you did pretty well. Good going, Potter."
He patted Harry's arm kindly, before slipping out the classroom. The meeting was brief but made Harry think a lot more than he wanted to.
Draco Malfoy was... Friendly.