Chapter 1: Goodbye Binns
A big thanks to darrelldeam and alix33 for looking most of this story over. All mistakes are my own. They betaed up to chapter 14, not including the stuff I'm adding. Like this note.
Sally and Isobel are two of my OC's from 'Potters Stand United' and that scene plays out pretty much like this one. Though this story has nothing to do with that one.
Unlike that story, Harry doesn't have a twin and both parents are dead. I just snagged the original characters. Yes, Sally is a Deus ex machina, but I like her.
So, I had deleted this story when I noted that it was not well received. I'm upset that I let that bother me. However, I have concluded that what I think is a great story, isn't thought of by all. I still think this is a great story, so I'm reposting it. I am very much a 'someone besides Harry' take responsibility, type person. In this case Sally. That and I like HEA stories.
Enjoy or don't. I can't please everyone. A hard lesson to learn.
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Harry Potter was so excited that he was bouncing as he walked. He was on his way to his first Magical History class at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had always been really good at history, his ghost-like friend made sure of it. She'd tell stories for hours about famous people and not so famous people. She said, and Harry believed her, that she was talking to those people as she spoke to him.
The reason he believed her was because she could prove it. She let him talk to his parents— constantly. In addition, Harry thought she was a ghost of some sort, because when he was a small child, she could always sneak around the house and warn him when his relatives were in a bad mood. She told him about magic and Hogwarts, ages before Hagrid showed up, but warned him to act surprised. So he did. She never steered him wrong before.
To her charge, Sally always looked like a little girl of about six. She was short, with black hair, which was pulled up in tiny pigtails that bobbed when she walked. Well, bounced in the air like she was walking, since her feet never touched the ground. She wore cute, baby-doll type dresses, with bobby socks and tiny, black, shiny little girl dress shoes. She always dressed like she was going to church.
What Harry didn't know was that she could take on other forms and did when needed. However, she didn't want to scare the little boy, so she kept this persona in his presence. Her name wasn't actually Sally, no it was something much older, but Harry named her so it stuck.
Sally had been with Harry as long as he could remember. She rocked him when he was lonely and dried his tears when he cried. She healed him when he was hurt and told him stories at night to help him sleep. She scared his relatives into feeding him but couldn't make them care.
She knew and understood his homework and helped him in every way she could. She never did it for him, because she said he'd never learn that way. If it was too difficult then she would bring down someone who could explain it better. Once she brought down Albert Einstein, which turned out to be a huge mistake, because the genius couldn't relate to smaller children. So, she made sure to bring primary school teachers instead.
She was his best friend. He knew so much about both the muggle and the wizarding world thanks to her. He even got to talk to all the Founders of Hogwarts; they were very funny to talk to. They made sure to tell him the real history behind the big fight between the two males, and that it was not what was recorded in history. They did keep it child friendly though.
The small boy learned very early that no one except him could see her. He got three days in the cupboard the first time he brought her up to his aunt. Sally had scared the willies from his aunt for that stunt. Harry had no idea how, but they never locked him away again, but he still was in the cupboard under the stairs. The Dursleys were firm that he was not going to infect there Dudley with his freakishness. Nothing Sally did would change their minds.
He had asked her once, after that particularly long punishment, why she didn't take him away? And why she was helping him, and not other abused children? Those were questions he didn't understand. There had to be loads of other children that suffered far more than he did.
Sally said he was a very special person, who didn't deserve what Fate had planned, and she was there to make sure he survived. It was for the best of the whole Wizarding World that she did what she was doing. She let him know that if she wasn't there, he might not be the good boy he is.
That left Harry more confused than before, but she told him it would all work out. He really didn't understand that, but he believed her. He didn't want to be a bad person.
Now, here Harry was, his first week day at Hogwarts, going to his third class. The first two classes had been exciting and now he was anxious to see how this one goes.
Hermione Granger, a girl he hardly knew, took out her parchment and writing utensils and set up to take lots of notes. Harry followed suit. His new best mate, Ronald Weasley, however, didn't. The rest of his year mates had come in and were all settling down at various desks.
This was a Gryffindor/Ravenclaw class. Ron, and many others, seemed to be getting ready to nap. They had their book bags, or jackets, propped on the desks like pillows and were all prepared to go to sleep.
"Ron," Harry hissed in the other boy's ear. "What are you doing?"
"Wha'?" the redhead boy answered tiredly as he arranged his jumper into a pillow. "Fred and George told me all about this class, said it was dead boring. The only thing it's good for is mischief planning and sleeping. Well, maybe getting caught up on homework." He wrinkled his nose at that thought. Who wanted to do homework when they could be sleeping? Well, maybe the Ravenclaws and Granger.
"Oh, well let's hope not, I like history," the eleven year old messy-haired wizard said, trying not to sound disappointed. He didn't want to come off as a whingy baby. He loved his talk with the Founders, though they, like Sally, never told him everything, mostly about their day-to-day activities and the magic they used to create Hogwarts. Still, it raised his interest for the past.
Harry had just set out his inkpot when everyone was startled, and some of the girls even screeched a little, as a ghost of an old man came floating through the chalkboard. The ghost introduced himself as Professor Cuthbert Binns, and that this was the History of Magic class, and if you weren't scheduled to be here, you were in the wrong class. He then pulled out a large stack of intangible notes and started lecturing.
Harry was taking notes, but he was thoroughly disappointed when all the ghost talked about was goblin rebellions. While it was interesting to read, listening to him carry on in a monotone voice was taxing. Still, he tried to pay attention. He really wished Sally was here. He jumped in his seat when he heard her right behind him, as if conjured by his thought. This caused Hermione to look at him quizzically. He just gave a slight shake of his head and continued to look forward.
"Well, this will never do," Sally huffed, folding her little arms in displeasure. "I'm not letting my Harry learn from this has-been," the embodiment of Death stated with a determined look on her cute little face.
Harry had to suppress a giggle as he watched her stomp up to the front of the class.
She walked right through the desk and tapped the professor on the forehead, causing him to stop talking and look up. "Teach or leave," she said in finality.
"What?" asked the confused professor. He startled as if coming back to himself, and he looked about the classroom for the first time in a very, very long time. "Hmmm, I don't remember any of you." He scratched his withered chin, with his short fingers. "Why are you in my class?" he ask the students, peering through his glasses.
The class just stared at him, except for Hermione who had her hand raised to answer, which was ignored.
"I'll give you one chance, Cuthbert Binns, you can stay here and teach properly or leave," Sally said, bringing his attention back to her, by getting in the confused professor's face. She drifted to the top of the desk, and stomped her foot on the wood, though it lost its effect when there was no sound.
"Who are you?" he asked, and peered at the little girl who was far too young to be in his class. She had no school robe on, so maybe she was a Muggle and didn't know this was a magic class. He wondered how she could have gotten past the wards and into the castle proper. Or perhaps she was a child of one of the professors and just slipped away, though for the life of him he couldn't remember any of his coworkers. "You should run along, child, this is not a class for younger children. Go and find your parents," he said, making a shooing motion with his withered, stubby, old hands.
The rest of the class jerked awake and watched the now believed crazy professor talk to thin air. They looked at one another in great confusion.
"Who's he talking to?" Ron whispered to Harry, who just shrugged and looked to the front, trying to hold in his laughter at the cuteness of his friend. His face was turning red with the effort and his friends were giving him strange looks.
"I'm Death, I have no parents, well, perhaps God, but he lets me do what I want," she replied with a steel glint in her eye, which was out of place on that lovable little cherub face. "Anyway, you're dead, so straighten up or leave," she repeated. She stomped her foot again, making her look endearing. "Were you this boring when you lived? Never mind, it doesn't matter, you're not teaching my Harry." She put her hands on her hips and glared at the old ghost.
"Oh my," Cuthbert said in sudden realization, looking down at his see-through hands, "I'm dead. I've always wanted to die. Now, I can meet so many historical people. Thank you," he gushed to Sally, who gave an adorable little giggle, angry face fading as if it had never been. Binns then turned to the gobsmacked class and said, "Well, I must be off, children. History waits for no man." And with a jaunty wave, he floated through the chalkboard to his next great adventure.
"Much better," said Sally with her hands in the air and a beaming smile on her face. She looked at her charge and saw his confused look and told him, "Don't worry, Harry, try and entertain the class until I get back. I need to get some forms filled out for the person I have in mind. Shouldn't take a minute, paperwork waits for no deity," she said cheerfully, as she too floated through the chalkboard with a perky bounce, which made her pigtails bob.
Sally had just the person in mind, Isobel Watts, who had been twenty-five when she died. Isobel had volunteered to come and teach as soon as someone got rid of Binns. She had been whinging at Sally for years about how horrible he was. Unfortunately, Sally had a few more important things to worry about than some worn out history teacher, like tending Harry. She had already given most of her work to her minions, and solely looked after her charge. Now though, in a castle full of ghosts she could do some work. And, no, she wasn't about to let Harry get a mediocre lesson in such an important subject.
Harry gave a minute nod of his head. He looked around the class and noticed that everyone was staring at the front of the class with several different looks on their faces; some in shock, some in happiness and some mild disbelief. Since no one was looking at him, he deduced that wizards and witches couldn't see or hear Sally either, and that they were staring because their teacher just disappeared after talking to the air. Maybe they thought an angel came and got the old ghost.
"Who was he talking to?"
"What happened?"
"I'm out of here."
Were the whispers, and one loud voice, from around the class as they got over their shock.
"I wonder who the child was that he was talking to," Harry heard Hermione mutter, but he didn't answer. He knew she hadn't seen Sally, but Binns did address the deity as a child, so maybe she got it from that.
He had to do something to keep the class here.
The messy-haired boy nudged the resident bookworm and asked in a whisper, "Hermione, could you go up and start the class? I think we're about to get a new professor, but someone has to do something. Look, people are leaving. And I'm not good in front of people," he confessed, earning a sympathetic look.
The bushy-haired girl looked around the class and noticed some of the boys had started getting their stuff together to leave. She nodded her head decisively and walked up to the front of the class. She picked up the ex-professor's notes, from when he was living, that were in a dusty pile on the desk. These notes were real and not what the ex-ghost had been reading, and from the looks of them they had not been used in a very long time. Hermione sneezed at the dust and then started reading in a loud firm voice. They were about the first war in the Wizarding World after the Statute of Secrecy. She struggled with the words since they were faded, but she plowed on.
Some of the students nodded and started making notes. All the boys that had been about to leave gave Hermione a hard glare and continued to the door.
They stopped when they heard an older female voice say sharply, "Sit down, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Finnigan, and Mr. Thomas." No one bothered to ask how she knew their names. Had they, then they would know that she always watched this class hoping her dream to teach it would come true, even in death. She had already marked these three as troublemakers, or at the very least inattentive. "Miss Granger, thank you for the effort, you may sit now," the person said.
Hermione squeaked out a 'you're welcome, Professor' and ran to her desk. She gave Harry a funny look and took up her quill. 'How did he know there would be a new professor?' the girl wondered.