Harry stared out in amazement at his surroundings. Sure, he had gone down into the depths of the school before, like going into the dungeons for Potions class, as well as Defense Against the Dark Arts in his first year, and even Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party, but everything here was just so unlike anything else he'd seen at Hogwarts.
To him, the chamber stretched on for what seemed like forever, eventually culminating at the carved stone head of Salazar Slytherin, the rest of its 'body' submerged deep in the waters that surrounded the stone walkway of the room.
What really stood out for Harry though were the objects in the room. Set up in one area of the chamber was a king-sized bed, along with a stone-carved bedside table and a torch hanging on the wall. In another, a well-used punching bag was set up, hanging from the ceiling. Additionally, there was also a barbell with six plates on each side, and large pieces of cracked stone. They didn't look like they belonged to anything, they were just pieces of cracked stone.
"Professor… Wh-what is this place?" Harry asked softly.
"This… is my room." Tim said epically. "Although, it used to be called the Chamber of Secrets. It's not really a secret though. Most of my time when I'm not teaching, I spend here training. At the end of every day, I train until I sweat blood. I don't stop until I do."
"Is that healthy, sir?"
"Of course. Blood's natural. Not like sugar." He said to him. "Now, remember when I said I'd take you under my wing and train you?" Tim asked. Harry nodded. "Well that time is now. I'm gonna build you up so you won't be scared of Voldemort anymore." Tim motioned for Harry to follow him over to his makeshift gym. "You're not weak, Harry. You just look that way. That'll all change when you get a bit more muscle on you though. So let's get started…"
"Wait, Professor, I… Is this going to be a permanent thing?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the thing is, I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and I'm just not sure I'm going to be able to fit this in, along with regular school work, homework and study and Quidditch practice."
"Well in that case, I don't want you to worry about Defense Against the Dark Arts. I'll give you top marks on all the theory tests, but I'll still need you to participate in the practical elements."
"Can you do that?"
"I can do whatever I want." Tim said thusly. "See, one of the things that people don't understand is, with enough hard work, anyone can overcome anything. Look at me, for example. I'm a Muggle, and even Dumblebro's scared of me."
"You mean Professor Dumbledore-"
"Watch your mouth, boy!" Tim shouted, before shaking his head. "What I mean is, if you put in the work, you'll get the results you want, and if you believe in yourself and have a good heart, you'll always come out on top. Now give me one-hundred pushups!" Tim ordered.
"Are you serious?"
"I am. Now come on. Drop and give me one-hundred pushups."
"Professor, I just don't think that I can do that many."
Tim sighed. Had it been any other student, Tim would have likely physically abused them, but not Harry. "Okay, how about this: do as many pushups as you want, and for every pushup you do, I'll award one House Point to Gryffindor."
Harry's eyes shone with a new sense of determination as he removed his glasses, placing them down on the ground before pressing his hands against the cold stone floor.
"Ready?" Tim asked.
Harry nodded.
Hermione stormed out into the courtyard, followed by an angry Ron and a rather apathetic Harry. Tim was sitting near the fountain, eating his lunch as the three walked by.
"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" Tim asked, getting up.
"Scabbers has gone missing." Hermione informed him, turning to Tim quickly. He could tell by her stance that she was suppressing a lot of anger.
"Scabbers isn't missing!" Ron shouted. "Your stupid cat killed him! I swear, if there was a word like bitch, but for cats, then yours would be that!"
"Hey, don't bloody swear!" Tim ordered. "Now, who is Scabbers?" he asked.
"He's Ron's pet rat. Oh, and by the way, Ron, Crookshanks is a he." Hermione stared daggers into her friend.
"A rat…" Tim mulled. "Sorry guys. I can't say I've seen one. But if I do find one, you'll be the first to know."
"If it helps, he's missing a toe." Hermione said.
"You're not gonna find him, 'cause he's dead…" Rom mumbled.
"Oh be quiet, Ronald…" Hermione sighed.
"Don't tell me to be quiet!"
"Well don't accuse Crookshanks of killing your rat!"
"Look, guys," Tim interjected. "I think this is getting a little out of hand. Aren't you all friends? I mean, it's just a rat."
Ron's eyes widened as if Tim had insulted every fiber of his being. "Just a rat?!" Ron shouted. "Scabbers has been in my family for almost twelve years! I grew up with him! How would you feel if you lost a family member?!"
Something inside Tim snapped, his fiery eyes burning deep into Ron's as Tim got up, quickly grabbing Ron's neck with his right hand and lifting him a few feet off the ground.
"P-Professor!" Harry and Hermione yelled in alarm, although Tim took no notice of them. Only Ron.
"Don't talk to me about losing a family member, you impudent child. You have no idea of the horrors that this world contains. So you lost a stupid rat! What about your brothers?! What about your sister?!" Tim roared, bringing Ron in close. "Believe me when I tell you that it is just a rat, and if all you end up losing in this lifetime is a rat, you'll live a pretty cushy existence." Tim dropped Ron to the ground, the boy coughing and spluttering as Tim looked down at him with scorn. "The way you're going about things now, Ron, you're gonna end up losing your friends too. Just look at Miss Granger. Do you think she appreciates the fact that you're accusing her cat of killing your rat without any proof? Grow a damn pair, Ron." Tim snarled, before walking back through the entrance to Hogwarts.
Harry looked down at Ron, a hand outstretched to help him up. "Ron, do you need-"
Ron slapped Harry's hand away. "I can take care of myself!" he shouted, getting to his feet rather shakily.
"Fine, suit yourself, Ronald." Hermione said firmly. "Harry, I'm going to go and see Hagrid and ask him how the hearing with Buckbeak went. Do you want to join me?"
Harry nodded slowly, looking away from Ron. "Y-yeah… I think I'll do that…"
"That's all for today. Class dismissed." Tim said, the second-year students rising out of their seats and heading out the door. Tim sighed, collecting his things before locking up and doing the same.
It would have been completely quiet had it not been for the echoing of Tim's footsteps down the stairs. That and Hermione Granger's quiet sobbing.
Tim arrived down at the foot of the staircase to see Hermione sitting down on the bottommost step, hands pressed against her eyes as she sobbed quietly to herself, a crystal ball next to her.
"Hey…" Tim cooed. "Are you alright?"
Hermione removed her hands from her red, tear-stricken eyes. "Y-yes, I'm fine." She lied, looking up at her teacher.
"What happened?" Tim asked. "Is Ron still giving you a hard time about Scabbers?"
Hermione sniffed. "Yes, but it's not just that… Hagrid's hippogriff Buckbeak has been sentenced to death, and there's nothing we can do. And just now, Professor Trelawney insulted me. She said that my heart was shriveled and my soul was dry and broken."
"Who's Professor Trelawney?"
Hermione sighed. "The Divinations teacher."
Tim groaned, sitting down beside Hermione. "Look, I just think you need to stop beating yourself up about this." Tim said honestly. "You're the smartest student at Hogwarts, and probably one of the smartest kids I've ever known. But no one can be the best at everything. Well… except me. Just because you're not always able to help out in the way you want doesn't make you useless. And who cares about what Professor Trelawney says anyway? You've continuously gotten the highest marks in my class out of any student in any year. It sounds to me like she's just trying to discourage you. If you take what she says to heart, then she's won. And you're a really good student, so… you know, don't listen to her, 'cause you're awesome."
Hermione looked up at Tim, herself filling with lust and affection towards him. "Professor…" she whispered, leaning closer to the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.
Hermione's lips had only grazed Tim's before he pulled away. "Whoa, okay…" he said softly. "Listen, Hermi-Miss Granger, I'm sorry, it's obvious I overstepped my mark here. I apologize sincerely if you ever, you know, got the wrong idea, and I really don't want to hurt your feelings."
"What are you saying?"
"I mean, I'm flattered, but I don't think of you that way. And you're a child. It would be inappropriate even if I did." Tim sighed, noticing the saddened expression in Hermione's eyes. "I think it would be best if you, you know, pursued someone closer to your own age."
After that, Tim stayed silent for a long time, hoping that Hermione would understand what he was trying to say.
"You've met someone, haven't you?" Hermione finally said.
"What do you mean?" Tim asked.
"That girl… Y-your boggart, I-I mean… She's your girlfriend then, isn't she?"
Tim shook his head. "No. She isn't… She wasn't…"
"What was she?" Hermione whispered softly.
Although not at all intentional on Hermione's part, her question cut at Tim's heart, mind, body, and soul. Tim's expression darkened, truly wondering if it was something he should talk about.
"My sister." He finally said. "She died a very long time ago. Almost everything that I've ever done in my life since she was killed has been for her." It was almost embarrassing for Tim to admit everything. After all, he was so used to being manly all the time, that sharing his feelings just felt weird, strange and awkward.
"That's why you went off at Ron. Because you know what it's like to lose someone."
Tim turned to Hermione. "You remind me so much of her, and that, more than anything, is why you and I-"
"Wouldn't work." Hermione finished. "I get it. You see me as a little sister."
Tim smiled. "Yeah. That's right." He suddenly sighed, grabbing hold of the crystal ball on the floor. "Would you know what this is from?"
"Um…" Hermione cleared her throat. "Yeah, that's mine. F-from the Divinations classroom, I mean. Um, that was the one that Harry, Ron and I were using, and when Professor Trelawney said all those things to me, I just took it and left."
"Do you think you're gonna go back up there?"
"Well, class finished half an hour ago." Hermione said. "So I don't really have a reason to go up there. I mean, I don't want to."
"Wait, if Divinations class finished half an hour ago, shouldn't you be at your next class?"
Hermione's face went beat-red. "Yes, well, um…" She sighed. "I didn't want to fail this year, and so I asked Professor McGonagall if there was any way I could take extra classes. And she gave me this." Hermione loosened her shirt a little as she reached in and pulled out a pendant which had a little hourglass on it. "This is a Time-Turner, and it's what I've been using to attend more classes than normal. A version of me, the past me, is actually at my next class at the moment. I came back again to do Divinations, and that's when this happened."
Tim beamed at his student. "You've got the power to travel through time, and you use it to study."
"Can you please not tell anyone that I have this? The only people who know are Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and you. If it slips out that I've got this, McGonagall will have me return it, and I need it to finish the rest of the year."
"Don't worry about it, Miss Granger. Your secret is safe with me." Tim smiled, getting up off the staircase. "I'll take this back up to the classroom for you."
"Th-thank you, sir. If you keep walking up the staircase, you'll get to it. It's the last one on the right."
Tim nodded. "No worries. I'll see you at class in an hour."
Hermione nodded back.
Tim ascended the steps with heavy feet, taking pride in the amount of power that each of his steps had, until finally, he had reached the highest point of the staircase, and the entrance to the Divinations classroom was on his right.
The door was open, and so Tim let himself in. "Yo! Anyone around?!" he called out. There was no response. The classroom itself was the most unorthodox that Tim had seen at Hogwarts. A dozen tables were all set up around the room, draped in burgundy cloth, with tea sets sitting on each, along with a crystal ball for each table. There was no room in sight for textbooks or anything of the kind. Even Snape's Potions classroom seemed better designed by comparison.
Tim noticed that one of the holders didn't have a crystal ball in it, and so he assumed that the one he was holding belonged to it. So he walked up to it and gently placed the crystal ball into its holder. For a brief moment, Tim could swear that the crystal ball changed colors before his eyes, going from its usual colorless clear gray, to a shimmering yellow, and then back to normal, in all but a few seconds.
"Hello…?"
Tim turned around, eyes wide at the woman who looked to be very frail and thin, her emerald eyes magnified by the large, thick pair of glasses she wore. Her frizzled hair and tattered clothes made her look, to Tim, as though she had been recently released from some sort of institution.
Tim cleared his throat, straightening himself up. "Hi. Look, sorry to bother you. I just returned the crystal ball that Miss Granger had."
"Ah, well thank you. I don't know what happened with her. I was just telling her what I saw and she stormed out of the class with it." The woman stopped, looking Tim over. "I'm sorry, I don't think I've ever seen you before." She said.
"I could say the same." Tim smiled, reaching his hand out. "Tim Ihansha. I teach Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Sybill Trelawney, Divinations." The woman replied, accepting Tim's handshake. "Pleasure to meet you."
Tim's expression grew stern as he looked down at the woman's hand. "You're a Muggle, aren't you?" he asked, after having regained eye contact with her.
"Wh-what?! N-no! I'm a witch! A-and-"
"Come on, don't deny it." Tim said. "In a school of witches and wizards, elves and trolls, I know a Muggle when I see one."
"I-I assure you, s-sir, I have no idea what you're talking about." Trelawney said firmly. "I'm related to the great Cassandra Trelawney, who was one of the greatest Seers of her generation. It is in fact because of her that I too possess the Inner Eye!" she shouted dramatically.
"Inner Eye?" Tim asked.
Trelawney nodded. "You might know it as Sight. It allows me to predict the future."
"That so…?" Tim muttered, folding his arms. "Would you be able to see into the future now then?"
Trelawney shook her head. "Unfortunately, I cannot. It is impossible for me to use my Inner Eye to see upon command." Trelawney then took both of Tim's hands into her own. "But if you'd like, I'd be happy to read your palms, or perhaps give you a tea-reading."
"No thanks. I'm not really a tea person." Tim said, taking his hands away. "Thanks anyway though. I think I'll just leave."
"A-alright, well, it was nice meeting you." Trelawney smiled.
Tim turned, heading back the way he came, moving out the door, convinced now more than ever that the Divinations Professor was a Muggle.