Title: Harry Potter and the Ancient God King
Author: Nopporn Wongrassamee aka The Evil Author
Summary: The new DADA teacher is something else. Harry and the gang want to know what.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings belong to whoever owns them. I'm just too lazy to look up who they are.
Part 14 – Strange Visitors
"Mom? Dad?"
For the first time since Harry had first seen her, Professor Burkle looked surprised. More than surprised, she had that deer-in-headlights, panicky expression on her face. But that only showed for a few moments before Professor Burkle affected an expression of delight.
Idly, Harry wondered what Professor's Burkle's parents were. Not what they were like, but what they actually were. After all, Professor Burkle presented a false face…
"Mom! Dad! What are you doing here?" Professor Burkle asked as her parents made their way over to her. Harry thought it odd that she would use her cheery voice with her parents, but they were in public after all.
"What are we doing here?" Mr. Burkle echoed. "Our baby girl is teaching at one of the most prestigious magic schools in the world and asks what we're doing here?"
"Silly question, huh?" Professor Burkle said.
"Why, when we heard, we just had to come and see," Mrs. Burkle continued. "We just couldn't believe it what with you being…"
"Mom, Dad, not that it isn't great to see you guys," Professor Burkle broke in, "but why didn't you send word that you were coming? You always just show up out of the blue."
"Oh we wanted to surprise you, dear," Mrs. Burkle replied. "Again."
"Plus this place ain't got no phones or Internet connections," Mr. Burkle added. "Can you believe that? I heard that these Old World wizards were old fashioned and all, but my Lord…"
"American wizards don't use owls?" Harry asked in surprise. An instant later, he was silently cursing himself for drawing attention.
"Harry! Hermione! Ron! I didn't see you there," Hagrid exclaimed.
"Hi, Hagrid," the three students chorused.
"Fred, care to introduce us to your friends?" Mrs. Burkle asked.
"Oh, sorry," Professor Burkle said. "Mom, Dad, this is Rubeus Hagrid, a fellow teacher. And these three are students of mine, Ron Weasely, Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter."
"Harry Potter?" Mr. Burkle said, puzzled. Harry braced himself for the inevitable bout of recognition that his name seemed to draw. "Isn't that the name of some Brit superhero?"
"Yeah, I was expecting tights and a cape," Mrs. Burkle added "And someone, er… older."
Harry could feel his face go beet red.
"Mom, he's Harry Potter, not Superman," Professor Burkle said.
"Who?" Ron and Hagrid said.
"So, don't American wizards use owls?' Harry asked again as Hermione gave Ron and Hagrid a quick run down on who Superman was.
"Well, sure we do," Mr. Burkle replied. "It's great for shipping parcels, but for messages? Only backwoods Appalachian hillbillies still use owls, and lots of them have phone and Internet these days too. It's much more convenient than an owl or sticking yer head in a fireplace."
"So, Fred," Mrs. Burkle said to her daughter. "What are you teaching here at Hogwarts?"
"Defense Against the Dark Arts," Professor Burkle said. "Harry here is my teacher's assistant."
"Well, I sure bet that she's teaching you kids a lot, eh?" Mrs. Burkle said to Harry.
"Oh, yeah, loads," Ron replied.
"Although, the content does seem…" Hermione threw Professor Burkle an apologetic look, "strange."
"Oh, I'm sure it does!" laughed Mr. Burkle.
"After all that time she spent running around with that Angel fella and his posse," Mrs. Burkle added, "our Fred ought to know all about fighting the Dark Arts."
"Who's Angel?" Harry asked, intrigued. The strange creature in Diagon Alley had also mentioned that name.
"Just a friend of mine," Professor Burkle said quickly.
"Just a friend?" Mrs. Burkle said incredulously. "Why, this is the guy who rescued you from that Pylea place, spends his time rescuin' damsels in distress and all…"
For the life of him, Harry could not imagine Professor Burkle as a damsel in distress. Unless Professor Burkle was causing the distress…
"Mom…"
"Hey, where is Angel anyway?" Mr. Burkle asked. "Or the rest of your friends?"
"Last I saw Angel, he was living a soap opera," Professor Burkle said. "Something about his girlfriend and his one true love and how they aren't the same person."
"Ooh, sounds like something they ought to put on TV," Mrs. Burkle commented.
"What's tee vee?" Ron whispered to Hermione.
"So what about your other friends?" Mr. Burkle asked. "You still with that Wesley fella? He seemed like a nice young man."
Professor Burkle's face fell. "Wesley… didn't make it out of Wolfram an Hart."
"Oh, Honey, I'm so sorry," Mrs. Burkle said sympathetically.
"I hope you gave whatever got him a good walloping," Mr. Burkle added.
"Trust me," Professor Burkle said, a hint of her other self showing through, "they were good and walloped."
"So, Fred, you teach at Hogwarts," Mr. Burkle said, evidently deciding to change the subject to happier matters. "I imagine that means you gotta teach spells and stuff. How do you do that?"
"Oh, I have Harry here to help teach the actual spells," Professor Burkle said. "He's very good at it."
Harry didn't know whether to be gratified at the complement or suspicious that he had been complemented at all. In the end, he made a few incoherent noises confirming Professor Burkle's statement.
"Aw, and he's modest too," Mrs. Burkle said. "So, Harry, how does it feel to be working with a squib?"
"Mom!"
"A squib?" Harry said, alarm bells going off in his head. "Professor Burkle is a squib?"
"Yep, but our Fred never let that get her down," Mr. Burkle said proudly. "Went to university and everything. Even fought the forces of darkness with nothin' but her brains."
"But, we've seen Professor Burkle do magic!" Hermione put in.
"Professor Burkle," Mrs. Burkle sighed happily. "That sounds so wonderful."
"Ah, Fred's probably been using those techno-magical gizmos of hers," Mr. Burkle told Hermione.
"No, we've seen her use a wand and everything," Hermione disagreed.
"A wand? Fred? Really?" The parents turned to Professor Burkle. "You have a wand, Fred?"
Reluctantly, Professor Burkle held up her wand to her parents. She seemed embarrassed. Something was wrong with this picture, Harry thought.
"Why that's wonderful, Fred!" cooed Mrs. Burkle. "How did this happen?"
"Something I picked up while at Wolfram and Hart," Professor Burkle mumbled.
"There's something that can make a squib into a full fledged wizard or witch?" Hermione asked.
"I'll bet Filch would love to know what that is," Ron added.
"No he wouldn't," Professor Burkle said sadly. "The price would be too high for him to pay. For anyone to pay really."
"Fred, did something…" Mr. Burkle began.
"So, Mom, Dad," Professor Burkle interrupted, full cheer back in her voice. "How did you hear that I was teaching at Hogwarts?"
"Oh, well, your friend told us you were here," Mr. Burkle replied uncertainly. He seemed concerned about the abrupt subject change. "Arranged transportation and everything."
"Friend? What friend?" Professor Burkle seemed genuinely puzzled.
"Why, it was…" Mrs. Burkle began. "Oh, wait. Here she is."
A woman with blonde hair sashayed up to them. Although she was pretty, gorgeous even, her prettiness seemed to be calculated, even artificial. There was something about her that just seemed wrong to Harry.
Ron on the other hand, seemed to be drooling. At least he was until Hermione elbowed him.
"Hi, Roger! Hi, Trish," greeted the newcomer. "Getting reacquainted with your daughter?" She turned to Professor Burkle. "So how have you been lately, Il…"
"Eve," Professor Burkle said. This time, there was no mistaking the out right hostility in her voice.