Title: Harry Potter and the Ancient God King, Part 2
Author: Nopporn Wongrassamee aka The Evil Author
Summary:
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to whoever owns them. I'm just too lazy to look up who they are.
"Hi, Harry! Thanks for coming," Professor Burkle greeted enthusiastically. "Come on in."
Stepping into the DADA teacher's office, Harry took a quick look around. His experience with previous DADA teachers told him that how they decorated their office often reflected their personality... or at least the personality they wanted to show. The way Professor Burkle had made the office hers was just... bizarre.
There was writing everywhere. Glowing symbols in a riot of different colors were scrawled on the walls, on the ceiling, and even in the air. In a seeming fit of rebellion, several lines here and their wriggled and moved, trying to get away. Harry was sure he recognized calculations out of math books from his Muggle school days, Arithmancy equations briefly glimpsed from Hermione's homework, and even runes from his Astronomy textbook arranged in a large circle. The only concession to humanity was the desk on which the students' homework lay, itself besieged by a small army of equations looking for space.
"Er, Professor, you wanted to see me?" Harry asked, carefully sidestepping an animated blob of zeroes and ones.
"Yes, I did." Holding her wand like a quill, Professor Burkle began scribbling in midair, apparently picking up where she had left off. "It just happens that I am in need of a TA."
"A what?"
"A Teacher's Assistant," she clarified. "I need someone who can teach actual wand spells that all the wizards use."
"You want me to teach classes for you?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Oh, no, just the spellwork," Professor Burkle clarified, not looking up from her work. "I can cover everything else. So, will you do it?"
"Why can't you teach spells?" Harry asked, not giving the Professor an answer right away.
"I don't know the spells worked with wands," Professor Burkle said, her voice getting deeper. She stopped writing, looking down at her wand. "I only got this thing," she held up her wand in what looked like annoyance, "just before the start of the school term. Now will you be my TA or not?"
"You only just started doing magic and you're teaching at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, his mind trying to get around the idea.
Professor Burkle turned to Harry. All trace of the friendly teacher was gone. In her place stood what looked like Professor Burkle, but all the mannerisms had changed to something stiff, forbidding, and perhaps deadly. When she spoke, her voice was the stuff of winter storms and rumbling earthquakes.
"I have been doing 'magic' since before your species evolved," she told him. "I could shape worlds to my whim and make gods cower at my feet. Now I have only a pittance of the power I once had, and this crutch," she shook her wand, "is the only thing that even makes me feel close to my old self." She leaned forward. Although she was shorter than Harry by about half a head, Professor Burkle seemed to loom over him like a giant. "Now, answer my question: WILL YOU HELP ME?"
There was an undertone of mortal threat to her question. For that instant, Harry had no doubt that she would make good on it.
"Okay," Harry finally said. He held up a hand and added quickly, "But only so long as it doesn't interfere with my other classes or Quiddich practice."
He almost held his breath, wondering how Professor Burkle would take the qualifiers he had added. She studied him for what seem like forever, and then nodded.
"Agreed," she said. Then she added grudgingly, "You have courage, enough to stand up to beings that you know are greater than yourself. You have the makings of an adequate warrior." In an instant, the friendly Professor Burkle returned. "Now, Harry, I'm sure you want to go join your friends," she said, guiding Harry to the door. "I'll see you tomorrow then. I'll be showing the Third Years vampires and how to deal with them. See you there!"
The portal stood in the middle of the flagstone floor, visible only as an upright oval shape of shimmering air. Reaching into it, Professor's Burkle's arm disappeared almost up to her shoulder before she drew it back out. In her hand, she held a struggling vampire by the throat.
"This is a vampire," Professor Burkle lectured. "Note the pronounced forehead ridges, the sharpened teeth, and discolored eyes. Who can tell me a way to destroy vampires?"
A tentative hand was raised.
"Yes, Mr. Clearwater?"
"F-fire?" the student said nervously.
"Are you sure, Mr. Clearwater? You don't sound certain." Professor Burkle winked and grinned at the class. "Why don't we find out? Oh, Harry..." Effortlessly, she tossed the vampire like a rag doll at her TA.
"Incendio!" As he incinerated the vampire, Harry couldn't help but worry what Professor Burkle had planned for his classes.