Chapter 10
A New Direction for the DA
As Harry passed through the magical barrier separating the Muggle Kings Cross from platform 9 ¾, he felt the familiar contentment that only going back to Hogwarts could bring. This year, however, there was just the smallest twinge of sorrow from leaving Grimmauld Place. Since Sirius had died and left him the estate, Harry had grown very attached to it. He felt pride in slowly fixing it up. The members of the Order loved the new knocker Harry had hung on the door, and when Harry asked their opinions about fixing up the rest of the house most had enthusiastically welcomed the idea.
"You'd better get a move on Harry, or you'll miss the train," Lupin mumbled to Harry urgently, yanking him out of his thoughts. Harry felt rather foolish when he realized he had just been standing in the same place for the last few minutes, lost in thought.
As Harry stepped onto the train he looked back onto the platform sadly. Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Lupin, Tonks, Fred and George stood waving good-bye. He blinked hard against tears, recalling that one year ago exactly, Sirius had been there too, disguised as a dog, playfully chasing after the train. He realized the Hogwarts Express would not only take him away from the Muggle world, but also into a new year: a year without Sirius, without letters, without fireside chats, without advice, and without the love of the closest person to a father Harry had ever known.
"Come on, Harry," urged Ginny, pulling him down the corridor. "We'll be lucky to find a cabin at this point."
They were half way down the train, after having walked by many full cabins, when they heard a familiar voice yell, "Harry, Ginny, over here, I saved us a cabin."
"Hi Neville," replied Ginny, dragging her trunk through the door way, followed by Harry. It was evident by the luggage already in the racks that Ron and Hermione were in that cabin as well, but had already headed up to the Prefect car.
"Who's stuff is this?" Harry asked as he heaved his trunk up next to one he couldn't identify.
"Luna Lovegood's," replied Neville. "She's at the front as well. She's been made a Ravenclaw Prefect."
The DA back together once more, Harry thought bemusedly as he stowed Hedwig away next to a croaking box.
"Mum was a little disappointed that I didn't get made Prefect," remarked Ginny with a smirk, "but I'm not. I know I take after Fred and George. Hey Neville, want to see the broom Harry bought me." Ginny grinned ear to ear every time she mentioned her new broom.
Neville looked at Harry strangely before replying, "sure Ginny."
Half an hour later, Ron, Hermione, and Luna returned. Hermione wore an enlightened expression upon her face, while Ron just looked bored and harassed. Luna stared dreamily and had a copy of the Quibbler clutched in her hand.
The train ride was uneventful, and Harry was very much looking forward to the feast when the scarlet steam engine finally hissed to a halt in Hogsmead. Emerging into the cool evening air, Harry listened for Hagrid's familiar cry of, "Firs' years this way!" He wasn't hard to miss, as Hagrid was standing in the middle of the platform with a large lantern raised high above his massive body.
"All righ' there, Harry," Hagrid yelled after Harry waved to him.
They made their way to the waiting carriages, where impatient thestrals pawed the ground.
"Are those things still there?" Ron asked.
"Yes," replied Harry, Neville, and Luna simultaneously as they all crawled into an empty carriage.
As usual, Hogwarts sat sparkling against the black night, welcoming and warm against the darkness. Harry's eyes were drawn to the tallest tower where two years ago he had helped to rescue Sirius.
What was it all for? What was the use? Harry thought bitterly. What was the use if he was just going to die anyway?
That annoying voice at the back of Harry's mind piped up again. Because it gave you two years you wouldn't have had otherwise, that's what.
"Harry. Harry!" Ron shouted into his ear, "Harry, are you coming or not?"
Harry shook his head clear. The carriage waited before Hogwart's great oak doors. Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna, and Ginny stood staring at him from outside the carriage.
"Sorry," Harry mumbled, heaving himself out of the carriage.
They joined the stream of other students entering the castle and headed toward the entrance to the Great Hall. However, before they could get there Harry heard someone else calling his name.
"Mr. Potter, may I have a word with you please?" asked Professor McGonagall, who stood just outside the Great Hall.
"Ummm, sure" replied Harry, who shrugged at Ron's questioning look. "Don't you have to meet the first years?" Harry asked once he reached McGonagall.
"Don't you worry about what I need to be doing, Mr. Potter," she replied tersely, "but I do need to be meeting up with them, so I'm going to need you to walk with me. What I need to tell you may take awhile."
Harry was now thoroughly confused, but also curious. He wondered if something Order worthy had occurred during the train ride and she was there to fill him, but he was not at all prepared for what McGonagall would say next.
"Potter, I would like to talk to you about the DA."
"I understand if you don't want me to continue the DA this year, Professor," started Harry. "I only set it up last year so we could pass our O.W.L' s while that horrible Umbridge…"
"Potter, we don't want you to disband the DA, quite the opposite actually."
"So you'll let me run the DA like any other club at Hogwarts?"
"Not exactly," replied McGonagall, leading him back across the large entrance way. "You see, Potter, we couldn't find anyone to take the role of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year. No one wants the position, and the Ministry is so overwhelmed right now that they can't trouble themselves with appointing someone to it."
"I don't understand."
"We want you to continue the DA, but not as an extracurricular club, instead during the time periods in which there would usually be Defense Against the Dark Arts classes."
Harry stood still for a moment, trying to process what he had just been told. Finally he managed to stutter, "you're asking me to be a teacher?"
"I'm asking you to do exactly what you did last year, but not in secret and not once a week, but everyday and with the entire school."
"There is no way the Slytherins will sit idly by and let me teach them," replied Harry with a hollow laugh.
"There would be a professor sitting in on every class you teach," McGonagall replied, "who would ensure the students stay respectful. We have worked your classes around the Defense Against the Dark Arts times, so your own studies won't suffer."
They now stood to the side of the massive front doors, through which a few last minute stragglers were hurrying. Harry still couldn't believe what Professor McGonagall was asking him.
"Professor," he began slowly, "why are you asking me to do this when there are going to be teachers sitting in on every class anyway? If they are going to be there anyway, why not have them teach?"
"The problems with having a different professor teach every class, Potter, is that the breadth of their knowledge of the subject differs. The students wouldn't be learning the same thing, and then next year, when there are new classes, we wouldn't know who learned what and how. If you instruct them, like you did your peers last year, next year, when we, hopefully, find a professor to teach the class, he or she would know exactly what the students have learned."
Harry remained slightly shocked as he watched Professor McGonagall close the doors in preparation for the arrival of the first years. "Professor, I'm only sixteen!"
"And you've already faced You-Know-Who more times than most adult wizards and lived to tell about it, Potter. You have a legacy that every student in this school knows about, and you keep adding to it. You could command a great deal of respect and awe, especially from the younger students, Potter. Think about the times we are living in. You-Know-Who has returned, and he's not just going to go after the Muggle borns and the half bloods, but anyone who would resist him. What we are asking you to do here, Potter, is to teach the students how to defend themselves so that they can stand up to those following Him."
Harry looked at Professor McGonagall strangely. "It sounds eerily like you are having me train a real Dumbledore's Army."
The sound of many feet and nervous voices could be heard growing louder from the other side of the door.
"Not an army for Dumbledore, Potter," returned McGonagall dryly, "but an army for the wizarding world."
Three sudden, loud bangs from the other side of the doors caused Harry to jump slightly. McGonagall immediately reached out, swinging the doors wide open, and a gang of scared looking first years emerged, stopping dead once they glimpsed McGonagall and Harry.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," cried Hagrid ceremoniously.
McGonagall launched into a speech very much like the one Harry recalled from his own first year, but many of the students didn't seem to be paying much attention to her. Harry could see a few people pointing at his forehead, while others were whispering excitedly with their neighbors. Harry was able to pick up a few snippets: "yeah, the Harry Potter," "him and You-Know-Who," "can you see the scar?"
What Professor McGonagall had just said reverberated back inside his head, "You could command a great deal of respect and awe, especially from the younger students, Potter."
Professor McGonagall also seemed to notice that the first years had not given her their full attention as well. Ceasing her speech about the four houses of Hogwarts, she turned to Harry. "I think it would be best if you joined the others in the Great Hall," she said quietly. "We can speak more after the feast."
Harry nodded, "Yes, Professor," and walked quickly back toward the entrance hall. Behind him he heard Professor McGonagall clear her throat loudly several times before beginning again. "Now as I was saying. The four houses are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin."
The doors to the Great Hall were now closed, but the roar of all the students inside could easily be heard. Harry tried to ease the doors open just enough to slip in unnoticed, but the hinges had not been oiled in a very long time. The students inside all turned when they heard the squeaking of the doors, expecting to see the first years entering. Instead, Harry entered alone, feeling his face flush deeply. He walked quickly to the Gryffindor table, where he slipped into a seat next to Ginny and across from Ron and Hermione.
"What was that about," Hermione whispered instantly.
"I'll tell you later," replied Harry, who was starting to feel like he had just dreamed the last conversation. Around him he could hear the other students going back to their previous conversations and the noise became deafening again. Harry looked up toward the staff table, hoping to catch Dumbledore's eye, but he was in deep conversation with Professor Flitwick.
"Snape doesn't look at all happy, does he, Harry?" asked Ginny, following Harry's look.
I wouldn't be happy either if a sixteen-year-old had just stolen the job I'd been after for years, Harry thought to himself. Potions is going to be hell this year.
Again the doors to the Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall marched in, leading the group of first years. She clutched the Sorting Hat and a stool. Lining the first years up in front of the staff table, Professor McGonagall set the stool down in the center and placed the Sorting Hat upon it.
A hush fell on the students, who waited for the hat's usual song. Finally the rip at the brim opened and the hat began its lament,
"At the birth of our fair school,
four founders swore to be forever friends.
From Slytherin to Gryffindor,
and Hufflepuff to Ravenclaw,
they promised to teach
who they thought best,
and instill upon their students,
the ideas each most stressed.
So Slytherin took those
whose heritage was pure.
And Gryffindor sought those
with courage and heart.
While fair Ravenclaw taught
those with the most smarts,
humble Hufflepuff accepted the rest.
But then things began to go astray,
as the once united school
split into civil strife.
For each wanted to be head,
for they thought their own
attributes were the best.
Till finally in one last bout,
Slytherin decided to get out.
And suddenly the four founders
were now down to only three
and forever now has the school
been divided with disunity.
Now the past is always doomed
to repeat itself again.
Presently we have entered
a crossroads in time.
For Hogwarts is being threatened
from foes outside and in,
and unless we learn to stand together,
our side surely will not win.
And although I must part you,
it is my cursed deed,
I can still impart some wisdom
to those willing to heed.
Your differences may be many,
but not for better or for worse.
The houses must come together,
find the secret within these walls,
in order to prevent Hogwarts
from splitting at the seams."
The song finished and the students and teachers broke out in applause, but for the second year in a row the students whispered hurriedly to each other.
"Well, at least it kept with the same theme as last year," quipped Ron sarcastically.
"Things must be worse than we know for a hat to be worried," commented Ginny.
Harry was busy trying to gauge Dumbledore's reaction to what the hat just sang, but the old wizard's face gave away no hints.
The Sorting began, and slowly the names of all the first years were read out and they placed the Sorting Hat upon their heads. Each house cheered as new students were sorted into that house. Finally, the last first year was sorted into Gryffindor, amid wild cheers from Ron that they could finally start the feast.
Dumbledore got to his feet as McGonagall cleared away the Sorting Hat and stool. "There is much to be said this year," he began, "but I believe it will all be better heard on full stomachs. So let the feast begin!"
Instantly the tables were filled with plates and plates of scrumptious food, which everyone eagerly dove into.
"So, are you going to tell us what McGonagall wanted to talk to you about?" asked Ron through a mouthful of baked chicken.
Harry glanced at the people sitting around them and shook his head. "I'll tell you once we are in the common room. I still need to talk more with Professor McGonagall after the feast. She didn't want to talk in front of the first years."
When everyone had finished dessert and the food had been magically cleaned off, leaving only sparkling gold plates and chalices, Dumbledore again stood before the school.
"Now that we are all happily fed, I ask that you humor an old man a little longer while I give some start of term announcements. First, as I'm sure you are all wondering why dress robes again appeared on your supply lists, there will be a ball on Halloween. This time, it is open to the entire school, and not only are you encouraged to go and have fun, it will be mandatory."
At this, many of the boys groaned loudly, while the girls giggled to each other excitedly.
Dumbledore raised his hands and once again silence fell. "Your head of house will give you more information closer to Halloween. Secondly, I must impress upon all first years that the Dark Forest is off limits to all students, and it would be wise of you to heed that particular rule. Lastly, Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has amended his list of contraband items over the summer break to now include many Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products. If you wish to see the entire list, it is on display in Mr. Flich's office."
Most of the Gryffindor table cracked into loud laughter at his announcement.
"Wait until Fred and George hear their products have been deemed illegal," giggled Ginny.
"Their sales will skyrocket now that Filch has banned them," laughed Ron.
Dumbledore continued after the laughter subsided, "Now, Prefects, if you would please lead your houses back to the dormitories. Tomorrow will be a busy day."
The Great Hall erupted back into noise as the students stood up and started talking again.
"What's the password?" Harry asked Ron before going to find McGonagall again.
"Felix Felicis," replied Ron.
"Come on," Hermione urged Ron, "we have to round up the first years."
"I'll see you later," shouted Harry as he started to fight his way through the mass of students heading for the door. When he reached the teacher's table, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were just rising to leave.
"You wanted to speak some more, Professor?" Harry asked as he approached.
"Yes, Potter," she replied. "The Headmaster has kindly offered his office."
They exited through the side chamber and out into the entrance hall. A steady stream of students from the Great Hall wound their way up the stairs toward the dormitories. Harry followed McGonagall and Dumbledore up the spiral staircase into Dumbledore's brightly lit office. Harry was greeted by Fawkes, who flew over to perch on his shoulder. Harry silently wished the bird's magical tears could heal psychological wounds just as well as they could heal physical ones.
Dumbledore took his seat behind his desk, while McGonagall and Harry sunk into the cushy armchairs in front of his desk.
"I understand you have some reservations about continuing the DA during class periods, Harry," said Dumbledore, gazing over his half-moon spectacles.
Harry nodded. "I just don't know if I can do it, between Quidditch, and my other classes. And how am I going to learn Defense Against the Dark arts for the N.E.W.T.S. if I am too busy teaching others?"
"Firstly, Potter, you would be surprised how much you will learn while researching defensive magic in order to teach it. You have an advanced Defense book, which you can use to teach yourself and then to teach the classes with. Which, by the way, only 5th years and above have a book," added Professor McGonagall. "You are free to teach 4th years and below whatever curriculum you like, just as long as you approve it weekly with Professor Dumbledore."
"And as for your learning, although I know it means more work, a weekly foot long essay will be due to Professor McGonagall on new spells that you have learned. That is how you will get your grade in Defense Against the Dark Arts," put in Dumbledore softly.
"But won't the parents be unhappy that their children are learning from another student?" Harry asked. "Especially those who don't particularly like me as is?"
Dumbledore smiled. "As long as your lesson plans are approved by me each week I don't see what problem the parents could have. It is as if I would be teaching the class if I've approved what is being taught. And the school governors have already been informed and have approved the measure, so you needn't worry about them either."
"Can I have a sort of trial period then?" Harry asked heavily, feeling himself cave to the pressure, "so that I can be sure I can handle this teaching thing along with Quidditch and my other classes?"
"Absolutely," replied Dumbledore wholeheartedly. "Lets say, that after the first two weeks of term, if you decide that you can't handle it with your work load, the professors will take over for you."
Harry nodded in agreement, "then when is my first class?"
"Tuesday," replied McGonagall.
"So by tomorrow I will need to see lesson plans," said Dumbledore.
Harry nodded as he inhaled deeply. He was embarking upon something no other Hogwarts' student had ever done.
"Oh, and one more thing before you go to bed, Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "You remain a member of the Order of the Phoenix while at Hogwarts, so you will continue taking your Occlumency lessons with Professor Snape. Also, since it is not practical for you to go back to Grimmauld Place for every meeting, when you come to see the Headmaster to approve your lesson plans it will also serve as a meeting to fill you in on what has been going on in the Order. That way, no one is suspicious as to why you are meeting with Dumbledore so often, since it is only to approve your plans for the DA."
When Harry crawled through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room it was almost empty except for two people, sitting close together by the fire. They jumped apart when Harry entered, causing him to stifle a laugh.
"So what did McGonagall want to talk to you about?" asked Hermione, trying to hide her curiosity.
"Well, you remember when Ron asked me who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be?"
"Yeah," Ron and Hermione replied simultaneously.
"Well, I found out and you are never going to guess who it is," Harry answered with a smirk.
"I can't believe they made you a teacher!" Hermione exclaimed half an hour later after Harry finished telling them everything he, McGonagall, and Dumbledore had spoken about.
"Why, jealous they didn't pick you instead?" inquired Ron.
"No, Ron," Hermione retorted hotly. "I think Harry is a perfect candidate for the position. He did do a wonderful job last year in the DA."
"Yeah, but I'll kinda miss the covert meetings, sneaking past Umbridge, using the magical galleons, the Room of Requirement," sighed Harry. "It didn't seem so much like teaching last year, but doing something to counteract Umbridge."
"Well, think of this as doing something to counter act You-Know-Who," suggested Ron.
"Voldemort," corrected Harry automatically. "You'd think that after hanging around with me for all these years I'd have broken you of that habit."
"Old habits are hard to break," mumbled Ron who really didn't seem to want to change the habit at all.
Harry grinned at him, "You just gave me an idea for what my first lesson will be."