Revelations Regarding Instructional Services

Author's Note: The is a sequel to Remuneration for Instructional Services one of two. It will consist of four parts eventually. I'd like to thank Elsa, Karen, Evan, dericwison, Shamrock, shadowtrumpeter, Eric, and the Plot Mechanic for their feedback on this work.

Gryffindor

Neville Longbottom did not consider himself to be a great wizard, nor did he consider himself to be a great friend to Harry Potter. He was at most a poor player, playing an unimportant role upon the stage. He was a dorm mate to the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Hate-the-Hyphenated-Title, who he occasionally helped with Herblogy and helped him with Defense Against the Dark Arts. That's all he was.

That was nothing compared to Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger who where definitely Harry Potter's best friends. Best Friends who had entirely different reactions to the fact that Potter hadn't been on the Hogwarts Express, and wasn't waiting for them in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table.

Hermione Granger's much more untamable than Harry's hair had reached a new level of frizziness as the girl looked up and down the table, trying to spot Harry. "He's not here, Ron. You said he'd be here waiting for us, all smug that he'd got here before the Expess."

Ron Weasley, on the other hand, just sat down across from Granger, as if he didn't have a care in the world. "So, he's not yet in the hall," Ron said. "I trust Harry when he said he would see us at Hogwarts."

That's when Neville caught the movement off the corner of his eye. There was someone standing on the threshold of the door to the chamber where the Champions had gathered back in his fourth year. He couldn't see the person's head at first, only a set of gray tweed robes with scarlet lapels. A slight movement showed that they were wearing last year's Gryffindor tie, with it's broader stripes of gold. The candles shifted, seeming to respond to Neville's desire to see whoever it was.

The new gold rimmed glasses did not aid in identifying him, but there was no mistaking the messy hair and scar of his most famous dorm mate. Neville looked back at Ron and Hermione. They hadn't spotted Harry, yet. He wondered why Harry was at the head of the hall instead of finding a seat at the Gryffindor table.

Then his gaze moved across the head table with the professors in their eclectic robes waiting for all the students to arrive sit down. It looked like Professor McGonagall had gone for a deeper green this year, and there was no pink dressed toad, so Professor Umbridge wasn't back for a second year, breaking the curse. Professor Snape wasn't up their, in fact his usual seat was occupied by a man in rich silk orangish-brown robes and a bow tie, who seemed somewhat familiar to him. Neville racked his brain for a moment, before realizing that he'd often seen the man at various gatherings that his gran had made him attend. Horace Slughorn! That was the name, Professor Snape's predecessor as Head of Slytherin and Potions' Master. Neville wondered if that meant that Snape was gone.

Then it hit him, with all the different color robes at the head table, there was only one reason why Harry would be here and not be wearing the black robes of a student. He spotted Professor McGonagall gesturing towards Harry, and shifted his gaze back to him. Harry shook his head, then cocked it to the right a bit and slumped his shoulders, before taking a deep breath, straitening up again, and heading towards the head table. Neville watched as Harry walked around back, taking the same seat that Neville had once seen Professors Quirell, Lockhart, Lupin, Moody, and Umbridge take, between where Slughorn sat and Trelawney sat. That had to be awkward. This was the second time he'd seen the Divination Professor attend.

Neville looked back at the table, and noticed that Hermione and Ron were still looking at the trickle of students still arriving. That trickle ended, and Professor McGonagall tapped her glass which rang out throughout the hall. Neville saw Ron and Hermione turn towards the head table, and watched their expressions change as they spotted Harry there. Ron took in a deep breath and moved back slightly. Hermione's eyes seemed to open wider.

Neither said anything, as Dumbledore had already stood and was beginning to speak. "In a moment, the First Years will be entering to begin the Sorting Ceremony. I ask that during the ceremony, you maintain a respectful silence during the Sorting Hat's deliberations. You may cheer or clap upon the announcement of a student's sorting, but there should be no booing or degrading a particular student's sorting. Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, retrieve the First Years."

Professor McGonagall stood, and walked out the Great Hall, down the outside on the Gryffindor side. As soon as she crossed the threshold of the hall, the doors started to swing shut. It was only when the crack of the doors closure was finished echoing in the hall that anyone started to say anything.

"Harry is a Professor," Hermione said. "He didn't tell us that?"

"To be honest, Hermione, we didn't exactly write him much this summer, or at least I didn't," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders. "More than last year, but still."

"You'd think he would have written us about it," Hermione said. "He did tell us about the dinner and winning the OWL and NEWT bonuses because he taught us Defense better than Professor Umbridge."

"My letter was three pages of that note book paper that you and Harry sometimes use," Ron noted. "Did he tell you that he'd taught enough that Hogwarts and the Wizarding Examniation Authority considered him a Professor? Isn't that a laugh?"

"Not really, I mean Harry did really teach us Defense last year." Hermione said, her expression changing to one of contemplation. "That toad certainly didn't teach us anything."

"Tell us what you really thought of Umbridge, Hermione," Ron shot back.

Hermione briefly put her hand over her mouth as if she was taking an extra measure not to respond to Ron's request. "Really, Ron." She looked back up at the head table, and Neville could tell from long experience that she'd just put together some facts. "I think Hogwarts made Harry the new Professor of Defense against the Dark Arts."

"Now that is just plain mad. Not even Dumbledore is mad enough to put a sixth year as a Professor of a required course," Ron replied, shaking his head. "He's probably just an assistant, continuing whatever he said he was listed as last year, assisting maybe that guy sitting next to him."

"That's Horace Slughorn," Neville said, finding the courage to interrupt the two. "He taught Potions from back in the forties to when Snape took over. I don't think he's there to take over Defense."

"Professor Snape," Hermione automatically corrected. "And Harry was Assistant Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts last year, at least that's what he wrote was on his invitation for the dinner. According to Hogwarts, a History, an Assistant Professor automatically becomes the Professor of a subject when the prior Professor resigns, unless the Headmaster appoints another during the first two weeks."

"Looks like we're going to have to get used to calling Harry, Professor, then," Ron said. "Going to be weird that." Ron shrugged. "No weirder than anything else at Hogwarts that has happened to Harry, though."

Neville reflected on what he'd known to have happened to Harry since they'd come to Hogwarts; Seeker as a First year, the Mirror of Erised, the gauntlet that he'd nearly stopped them from running to save the Philosopher's Stone, being a parselmouth, finding the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in a girl's bathroom, a prisoner escaping Azkaban to save him from the worm that had betrayed his parents, being an underage Triwizard Champion. No, this was par for the course for Harry Potter.

The door to the Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall entered, leading the First Years. The hall went silent as the Sorting Ceremony was about to begin.