Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, they, and the whole concept of
Harry Potter, belong to the talented Ms Rowlings. Only the plot is my own.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed the story. A big thank you to my beta reader (I may have to promote her to "editor" as her attention to detail and her encouragement are fantastic). Your efforts are greatly appreciated.
I am working on getting FFnet to get the italics into the text. Until I get on top of it, thoughts will be in asterisks, * like so *.
NB: One of my reviewers has observed that my author page won't accept anonymous reviewers. I've corrected that now so if anybody would like to review anonymously I'd love to hear from you. I really really would.
Annephoenix: The confusion will be addressed in Chapter 6. Couldn't convincingly address it any earlier.
CHAPTER 4
It was the day before Harry was supposed to move into Hogwarts, and it was about 4:00 in the afternoon when he finally returned to his flat. The flat was almost empty now. He had sold most of the furniture and had just returned from helping to deliver the last of it to the warehouse that had bought it. The only items of furniture he could not bring himself to sell were the two armchairs which he and his lover would sit in after dinner to unwind and relax after a long day. Greg had bought them as a gift for Harry when he moved into the flat and they were irreplaceable.
Harry sat down in his armchair (he'd never sit in Greg's) and rubbed his aching muscles. Harry had been in peak physical condition during days when he had been taken to train for the battle between himself and Voldemort. He had continued to keep himself in good physical condition after his departure from the wizarding world, but even he had to admit to himself that he was going to be sore for a few days. He had woken early to help the men from the warehouse to transport away most of the furniture. He could easily have moved the furniture using magic, but the strenuous exercise and genuine pain of aching muscles was a good distraction for Harry. He needed the distraction that hard work and the company of workmen had provided him.
It had been two weeks and he still couldn't put a proper lid on his grief. He reasoned that this was not unusual. He and his partner had been together for about seven years. Two weeks was just too soon to put something like that behind him. Besides, he'd been more or less completely on his own for just about the whole time since his lover had passed on. He had been with Greg's parents for the funeral but had chosen to isolate himself from all company since then. Perhaps he might be able to make some real progress in getting a handle on his grief once he started teaching and throwing himself into the task of preparing his classes and teaching his students. He'd be in a new environment, facing new challenges.
Harry pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the bedroom. He had booked a room for the night at an inn in Hogsmeade and had only to pack up the clothes in the bedroom before he could check in for the evening. He had tried to do this a week ago, but couldn't. Now there could be no more excuses. He had to do this so he could leave this flat and move on.
He took a deep breath and opened the door to the wardrobe. He reached out a hand to gently stroke the clothes on Greg's side of the wardrobe. Harry started pulling his shirts and pants off their hangers but stopped after only a short time. He raised one of the shirts to his face and inhaled deeply. He could still smell his musky cologne on the shirt. He looked at the clothes and smiled to himself. He had never met anybody with as wide a taste in clothing as Greg. He wore everything from jeans and t-shirts, to exercise shorts and tank tops, to dress shirts and trousers, to fashionable tight leather clothing. He remembered being shocked when Greg first moved in at the number, and variety, of clothes he owned. He remembered helping him to hang all of his clothes up on hangers.
"How do you find the time, or the occasion, to wear all of these?"
"Well, I obviously don't wear them all at once, but stick around babe and I'll show you how I wear all of these." Greg replied with a sexy smile.
Harry was a sucker for that smile. He dropped the shirt he was preparing to hang up and pinned his lover up against the cupboard door, kissing him thoroughly and grinding their bodies together. They didn't get much unpacking done after that.
Harry cleared his head and looked at the time. He had to get a move on if he was going to be at the inn in time for the evening check in. He couldn't bring himself to give away Greg's clothes. He'd sooner cut off his right arm. So he carefully folded them and packed them into his travelling bags. He'd be taking them with him. Once that difficult task was over, it took him little enough time to fold his own clothes into his own travelling bags. He took a final look around the bare room. Shadows of Greg were everywhere, and they were particularly strong in this room.
An ache filled him. He needed his lover, his partner, his other half. An idea occurred to him. He opened Greg's bags and pulled out a long sleeved blue cotton shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He then pulled out a pair of socks and joggers. They were both of a similar build - light and lean but well toned - but Harry was a few inches shorter.
He pulled off his clothes and reached for the shirt. As he did this, he caught his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. He normally didn't really pay attention to himself in the mirror, after all, he knew what he looked like and he didn't particularly like what he saw in the mirror anyway. This time though, shirt in hand, he approached his reflection. Muscles rippled beneath his skin as he moved toward the mirror and reached out his hand to touch the image.
"Scars. So many scars. From too many battles." Harry recalled the first time Greg had seen those scars. They had just returned from an intimate dinner and, on impulse, Harry had invited him back to the flat.
They kissed deeply and hungrily as Harry pushed Greg backwards through the flat and toward the bedroom. His soon-to-be-lover's hands untucked Harry's shirt from his trousers and he pulled it up and over his head, tossing it across the room. He paused to really look at Harry. Harry's heart thudded uncomfortably in his throat. * Oh God, please don't tell me he's going to run away! * Harry thought desperately to himself. But Greg didn't take his hands off Harry for a single moment.
"How did you get all of these scars Jason? Pharmacology isn't that tough, is it?"
Harry wasn't expecting him to see his scars this evening so he was caught unprepared. He tried to think quickly, but his brain wasn't functioning too well at that moment. Something to do with hormones.
"I was in a car accident a couple of years ago."
"What happened?"
"It was just my friend and me in the car. My friend was driving. A car swerved to our side of the road. I don't remember too much. I remember there was lots of yelling and big bright headlights. And then I remember waking up in hospital a week later. My friend died, and everyone in the other car died as well. I was lucky."
"A car accident?"
"Yes."
"Scarring front and back?"
"Yes."
"Must have been one hell of an accident."
"It was."
Greg and Harry picked up where they left off after that.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Harry shrugged himself into Greg's clothes. He rolled the sleeves of the shirt up twice and did the same to the legs of the jeans. * Not too bad * he thought to himself. He felt oddly comforted now and it seemed to give him an energy he'd been missing for the last two weeks. He shrank his luggage and the two chairs and apparated to his inn where he was shown to a small room that would be his for the night.
"I'll have some dinner waiting for you downstairs Sir. Is that okay, or would you rather I bring it up here?" asked the young employee.
Harry hadn't really been eating regularly for about a fortnight now, but he found that he was really quite hungry today. * Probably because of all that work I did today with the furniture * he thought to himself.
"I'll follow you down" he replied as he put his shrunken luggage into one of the bedside drawers. He'd deal with them later.
*****
Dinner was uneventful and Harry spent a quiet evening engaged in idle chatter with the other patrons of the inn. He had thought briefly about eating in his room, but he'd been out of touch with this world for seven years and he hoped he'd be able to learn some information about how everything had been since he'd left. About all Harry managed to find out was that after Voldemort's defeat, things had more or less been peaceful. There had been rumours of attempts to regather a dark force to rally against the light, and every time a crime was committed these rumours seemed to surface. People were still edgy. They had not known peace for such a long time that they were immediately willing to assume the worst. * Can't say I blame them really. Best to be over cautious rather than under cautious. *
Harry also managed to learn that the Chudley Cannons had taken the Quidditch Cup the last three years running. * That'll make Ron happy * Harry mused to himself. He felt a pang of guilt. He wondered what had happened to Ron and Hermione. He'd always regretted leaving them without saying goodbye, but he knew that if he had tried to say good bye to them they would never have let him leave.
As evening turned into night, Harry trudged back to his rooms and searched for his sleeping pills out of habit. He swallowed them with a glass of water. He was barely coping during the day. He didn't feel up to trying to cope with his grief in his dreams as well, not just yet, anyway. The sleeping pills drove away his dreams and nightmares. * It's only until I get back on my feet * he silently told himself as he fell asleep on top of the bed.
*****
"I hope these rooms are to your liking Jason. Feel free to arrange the rooms as you please and to change the décor if you wish."
"Minerva, the rooms are lovely. Thank you." The rooms were really quite lovely and already well furnished. There was a large living room which showcased a lovely big fireplace A well stocked kitchenette area adjoined the living room. There was a spacious bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. There was also a room off to the side of the living room which Minerva told him was a study, but could be used as whatever Harry wanted it to be.
"I'll leave you to it then. I'll be back at about quarter to twelve to show you where the staff meeting will be held." And she shut the door silently behind her, leaving Harry staring at his suite, wondering what to do and where to start.
The only problem with his suite was that the walls were painted in green and silver and the furniture matched those colours. The last person who stayed in the room had to have been a Slytherin. That had to be changed. Harry concentrated and wove his magic, letting the rooms know that blue was a much nicer colour. The rooms responded to his intent and soon the rooms, and the furniture, were decorated in varying shades of blue, one of his favourite colours.
Once that was taken care of, Harry moved to the bedroom to begin unpacking, which didn't really take as long as he would have expected, considering how difficult he had found it to pack up the flat. He did however have a moment of uncertainty as he held a framed photograph of he and his lover. He decided to put the photograph into the top drawer of the chest of drawers next to the bed. When he was coping a little better, he'd take it out of the drawer and stand it on top of the chest of drawers. Right now, it would be too painful for him.
He noticed he was still wearing the clothes from the evening before and decided that he didn't really need to change them. After all, no one here knew that he'd slept in these clothes and he'd only be seeing the staff briefly at the staff meeting today anyway.
The bathroom was the next place that Harry decided to set up. As a chemist, he always had a well stocked medicine cabinet. After setting unpacking everything that belonged in the bathroom though, he realised that he was running very low on headache medication and sleeping tablets. He'd have to take a trip into London to pick up some more. As a chemist, the only medication he took that he didn't have a hand in making himself was the Panadeine headache tablets. He always preferred to mix his own medicines as he could tailor the medication to his own specific body and needs. Idly he thought to himself that since he was here he could actually mix up some potions of his own that would serve his purposes. He had had a very good grounding in the study and practice of potions during the years that he spent training for his battle against Voldemort. His trainers had told him that this was an invaluable field of study as he could make his own poisons, antidotes, serums, medications, healing balms and much more. As a potions student under Professor Snape, Harry had been indifferent at best. Under Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the Ministry Aurors engaged to train him, he had excelled in the study. This ultimately led to his pursuit of a career in pharmacology when he left the wizarding world.
But he felt more comfortable with the idea of taking muggle medication though and, for the time being at least, he resolved to stick with them. * This is just until I get back on my feet. I won't need them after that. *
After modifying the study so that it could easily accommodate the needs of a professor who would be doing research, making lesson plans and grading papers, as well as the needs of a pharmacologist and a potions maker, he found he had some time left before Minerva would be looking for him. He decided that he may as well have some breakfast while he waited. He picked up one of Greg's suitcases and made his way to the kitchen. After Harry had returned from identifying his lover's body, he had tried to make himself a cup of coffee but he found that he couldn't do anything in the kitchen with the "tools of Greg's trade" staring at him from all corners. So he had packed the cooking things into one of his suitcases and stored it away to take with him when he moved. They had travelled with him to Hogwarts and Harry carefully put them all away in the kitchenette area of his suite before he set about making some toast and coffee.
*****
Harry already knew his way around Hogwarts very well, but he allowed himself to be guided by Minerva who pointed out different rooms and passages to him while he nodded and made the appropriate polite inquiries. She was setting an annoying slow pace and this stemmed from her unnecessary concern over his permanent limp. No amount of hinting that she could move faster seemed to hurry her pace at all. In fact, she pointed out that she walked at this pace the last time she had guided him through the school and he didn't complain then. That was true, but he had also been groping along half blind from trying to use Greg's contact lenses. He had since been to the optometrist and had several sets of coloured contact lenses made up with his prescription so he could see perfectly well this time around. He still kept Greg's contacts in one of his bedside drawers though. Sighing, Harry resigned himself to the concern of the Deputy Headmistress.
"And here is the staff common room. The staff may use this room whenever they wish. We also use this room for staff meetings, so here we are. Let me introduce you to everyone."
And so began the long round of introductions. He knew a number of the professors already, as they had been his professors when he was a student. There were some new additions to the staff though and Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he was introduced to Hermione Weasley, the Arithmancy professor, and Ron Weasley, the Muggle Studies professor. * I don't know what you're so surprised about, Hermione was either going into research or teaching. But what's Ron doing here? And they're married. Gosh. How much have I missed? * Harry thought to himself. He mentally thanked the gruelling training that he had endured when he was younger that allowed him to appear outwardly calm in the face of such a shock though. He mouthed the appropriate "Pleased to meet you" phrases and was quickly ushered to a seat as the meeting was about to begin. He ended up sitting next to Professor Snape. * Half my bloody luck * he mentally cursed himself.
He listened while Albus made some comments about renovations being made to the castle and modifications being made to the security and defence systems around the case. When Albus formally introduced him to the staff in the room as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Snape could not help but interrupt and request a word with the Headmaster. "Can this wait Severus?"
"No Headmaster, I don't think it can."
"Please, talk amongst yourselves for a few minutes." Sighed Albus as he and Professor Snape drew themselves to one side of the room. They conducted their conversation in hushed voices. Even so, Professor Snape was gesturing with his hands and would glance or gesture toward Harry every now and then during their conversation. Harry had some skill with reading lips. It was a very handy skill to have during the war. He had been unlucky enough to have been caught and tortured for information on a couple of occasions. His hearing was often affected by the pain inflicted on him, or else distracted by the noise around him. This handy little skill often let him know what the people around him were saying, when they were foolish enough to speak to each other where he could still see them. Also, on a battlefield where there is noise all around it is sometimes difficult to hear what your comrades are trying to say to you. This reduced the need for unnecessary yelling during a battle where the person was unable to use their customised sign language. Harry smiled privately.
"With all due respect Albus, you have hired a complete unknown. I've made some inquiries of my own and nobody in the wizarding world has ever heard of 'Jason Green'. Don't you think that a man who has made an effort to achieve secrecy might have done so for a sinister purpose? Do you think it wise to hire someone like that?"
"We have had this conversation before Severus. You needn't have interrupted the meeting to have it again. Many of us have secrets, but it does not necessarily make us untrustworthy." Albus directed a piercing gaze at the potions master who had the good grace to look ashamed at the statement. Professor Snape returned to his seat, apparently silenced by Albus, but Harry knew that the Professor was not one to give up so easily when he had a point to make.
Albus resumed the meeting. "Perhaps now would be a good time to begin discussing our subject syllabuses for the year."
Harry listened quietly to the other Professors while they discussed their plans for their classes this year. Most of them just said that they would be sticking with the syllabus they had been using for the last however many years they had been teaching for. Professor Snape, on the other hand, would be changing the syllabus.
"He changes his syllabus every year" Minerva whispered to Harry from her seat in front of him. "He keeps up with an enormous amount of research and experimentation and he changes his course all the time. It's embarrassing actually because the rest of us should really do the same thing but quite frankly, I just don't have the energy to do it." Minerva whispered in awe and respect. "If you ever tell him I said that I'll deny everything though ." She added as an aside. Harry stifled a laugh and listened as Professor Snape finished his presentation.
"If you keep working yourself this hard Severus I'm afraid we'll lose you before your time. Right now Jason, what have you decided to do?"
"To be honest Albus, I haven't really planned for anything beyond what I explained in your office. I thought now that I was more conveniently situated, I'd do some leg work, speak to some people about Defence and try and find suitable texts for the class this week and plan from there.
"Do you have particular people in mind, whom you wish to speak to?" asked Professor Snape coldly.
"No, I thought I'd make a few inquiries and find out who the best people to speak to would be."
"Please choose your contacts carefully. There are many people out there whom we know nothing about, or whose identities are surrounded by dubious and highly suspicious circumstances. As such, it would be unwise to trust them, as I'm sure you'll agree." Stated Professor Snape while giving Harry a knowing glare.
Harry met the glare and held it. Without breaking the eye contact he said "Does it really bother you that you don't know very much about me Professor? Why is it so important that I make public every last detail about myself?"
"Enough Severus. I am sorry Jason. I want you to know that you would not be sitting in this room at this moment if I thought to you be a threat to my staff and students." Harry and Professor Snape turned their attention toward the Headmaster.
"That's quite alright Albus. I don't blame the Professor for being cautious. I would feel the same way if I were in his seat. After all, history has taught us very well that people aren't always who they appear to be, and we'd be fools not to listen to the teachings of history, wouldn't we?" It was an innocent enough statement but it evoked a range of silent reactions from the staff. Professor Snape's role as a spy for the light had been kept a secret from the public for the safety and protection of the Professor. Those in the room who knew of the Professor's double life wondered briefly if that statement was directed at him. That was an absurd notion though, wasn't it? This new acquaintance could not possibly know of his secret. Professor Snape was not as quick to dismiss the comment though. He studied Jason through narrow eyes. * What could he have meant by that? * The Professor wondered. * Hmmm... *
Harry silently congratulated himself on his small victory. He had meant the statement to be a slap in the face to the Professor. * He can't talk. He was a bloody Death Eater for goodness' sake until he switched sides. He's presenting so many faces to the world I'm surprised he can keep them all straight in his head! On the other hand, I don't think I'm in any position to start preaching about the hypocrisy of pretending to be someone that I'm not. *
He turned to find Albus giving him a very piercing gaze. He looked right into those eyes with his artificial dark brown ones and blinked innocently. "I just meant that the war with "you-know-who" taught us all some pretty valuable lessons, didn't it?"
"Yes, yes it did. Did you have anything else planned for your classes, Jason?" asked Albus after a pause, as he hurried to steer the conversation away from the awkward topic that had arisen.
"Not really Albus. I still plan to find out what level the students are up to though and I still plan to teach them how to defend themselves properly before I do anything else. If they can't defend themselves properly, I expect that there'll be a lot of nasty accidents in classes-"
"And you are qualified to be able to teach that?" interrupted Professor Snape.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Harry.
"Perhaps the question was impertinent, but I know that you have no experience as a teacher and you come with no references to support yourself. If you cannot teach these students properly you will only be doing them more harm than good."
Several members of staff raised their eyebrows at the comment. Albus just shook his head slowly. Harry wasn't particularly shocked though. He knew enough about the nature of his Potions Master to have expected him to say something like this. * I'm better than you could possibly imagine you slimy bat, * thought Harry to himself, but he simply said "I have never found my skills to be inadequate Professor."
"And yet you have no credentials with which to recommend yourself?"
* I got rid of Voldemort you greasy sod, how's that for credentials? * Harry silently bragged, however, he replied "Nothing in writing, Professor".
"That could mean anything."
"I guess it could."
"Just how skilled are you?"
"Severus, please. I must ask that you cease this behaviour at once." Commanded Albus. "Jason, I apologise for the rudeness."
"Albus, I can tell that the Professor is a cautious man. His concern for the well being of his students is commendable." Harry paused to stifle the laugh that was at the back of his throat. Once he was sure he would be able to speak without laughing, he turned to Professor Snape and said:
"That depends on what, or who, you compare me to."
"As compared to me then, or anyone in this room."
"I have no idea. I met you for the first time two weeks ago after my interview with the Headmaster, and I only met most of the people in this room today."
Professor Snape paused.
"Where were you educated?"
"I assume you are asking where I received my wizarding education. I was educated down south in a small school."
"So you didn't receive much of an education then?"
"If you're assuming that only people who are educated at Hogwarts are educated properly, then you'd be sadly mistaken Professor. I don't feel that my education lacked anything, as you'll see when I begin teaching my classes."
"Can you defend yourself?"
"Of course. Why, were you planning to hex me?"
Snape ignored the question. "Have you had experience in battle?"
Harry paused. "The time of Voldemort was a dark time for all of us. I think you would be hard pressed, Professor, to find any adult witch or wizard who was not involved with the battle against the dark in one way or another."
Harry knew that he was being deliberately vague and that it would probably make the other professors think he had something to hide he didn't care. He just wanted to put Snape in his place. * We're on equal footing now Professor, after all, we're both professors in our field aren't we? * Harry managed to rationalise his behaviour to himself by telling himself that the other Professors were probably already suspicious, no doubt having heard that he had no references or credentials or even background to recommend his skills or his loyalty. His behaviour today wouldn't have revealed his secret.
"Severus, I must ask you to show some courtesy and respect to a fellow professor. I am sure he will serve us very well. I have a good feeling about this young man, and I'm not often wrong about this sort of thing, am I?" A private glance was shared between Albus and Severus, and then the Professor ceased his line of questioning.
"I think you'll find that you and Professor Green have much in common. You see, he was a chemist in muggle London and owned his own pharmacy." Turning to Harry, Albus continued, "That is an interesting career choice Jason. Have you always had a love of pharmacology?"
"I originally began studying medicine at uni, but I switched to pharmacology soon after that."
"Why on earth? Wouldn't it have been rewarding to be involved in the saving of lives." Minerva commented.
* I was already intimately involved with the pressure of saving lives, remember Minerva? I was the champion of wizards, I was supposed to save everybody from the dark. I was supposed to save everybody's lives. I didn't save nearly as many people as I should have though. I didn't want to be responsible for any more deaths! I'd had enough. * Harry privately thought to himself.
"Pharmacology allowed me more concrete working hours than medicine ever would, and the mixing of medicines can be just as rewarding and can save just as many lives. I prefer to work behind the scenes. I don't like being at the forefront. Just too much pressure I think."
"Severus, isn't pharmacology similar to the study of potions?" asked Albus, politely, more to ease the tension in the room than for any real interest in the answer.
"The study of potions is far more subtle than the muggle study of pharmacology. Pharmacology requires that the chemist mix together a set of ingredients. Potions requires as much study of technique as of ingredients."
* You pompous git! * Mused Harry.
"As you are the expert in this area, I shall defer to your judgment Professor." Said Harry congenially as Albus shook his head in exasperation.
"Right, I think we should take a five minute break. I'll be right back."
Harry looked around the room as people began getting up and moving around. Harry was quite happy to stay exactly where he was, and so, apparently, was Professor Snape. He stretched in his seat and extended his legs to put his feet up on one the back of one of the seats in front of him.
"Didn't your parents ever teach you that it's bad manners to put your feet up on the furniture?" asked Professor Snape coldly.
"My parents died when I was younger and so I'm sure a gentleman such as yourself would be polite enough to excuse the fact that I have a few rough edges. If, however, I offend your sensibilities then I suggest that you move to another part of the room where you can't see me." Answered Harry just as coldly. An onslaught of painful memories, the only memories he actually had of his parents, erupted within Harry:
* "Lily, he's here. Take Harry and run. I'll hold him off." Cried James Potter. *
* "Please not Harry, not Harry. Kill me instead." Screamed a young Lily Potter as she shielded her baby from the dark wizard before her. *
* A high pitched and cold voice called out "Avada Kedavra!" and then laughed cruelly as Lily screamed. A flash of bright green light ended his mother's life. *
-----
Emotions surfaced which he hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't as though he had forgotten his parents, or had forgotten the pain associated with their deaths and never having a chance to know them, but his life with his lover had helped to ease the loneliness he had felt. Now, without Greg, the loss of his parents reminded him all too keenly that he was alone. That just about everybody he had loved had died. It seemed that he was destined to be utterly alone.
Harry was fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over from the fresh wave of pain. He got up out of his seat and left the room. He walked a small distance down the hall and hid inside an alcove. He took deep, steadying breaths in an effort to calm himself. Once he felt in control again (or as close to it as he had been these past couple of weeks) he walked back to the room and re-claimed his seat in time for the meeting to begin again. He couldn't help but notice that Professor Snape would occasionally glance at him and give him odd looks. Harry wished that he'd just leave him alone and look elsewhere. * Snape is all alone. I wonder if I'll end up like him when I'm older. There's something to look forward to. *
The meeting finally ended and Harry sought out the sanctuary of his own rooms.
*****
Harry had arrived at Hogsmeade early that morning so that he could use the library. He had decided that he would choose what texts he would use for his classes as soon as possible so that he could begin planning his classes. After all, school started in two weeks and he had no idea what he was going to do.
He had discovered that there had been many books written on the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts. He spent the next three days in the library seemingly devouring the books. Some were good, many just simply said the same thing. One of the most interesting books he found was a study into the nature of the unforgivable curses. Not really an appropriate text to recommend for purchase, but he made a note to have a copy purchased for the school library. Though he had decided on the texts to be used, he didn't find a single book that seemed to suit his needs for the class. All the books seemed to be lacking in something. They seemed to be adequate when dealing with the theory of the curse but often did not delve enough into the origins and the workings of the curse to give the reader a proper understanding. Most of the books did not even describe the effects of the curse adequately. He briefly entertained the idea of writing a Defence Against the Dark Arts Book, after all, he certainly was an authority on the subject....
Harry had forgotten how busy Diagon Alley was at this time of the year. He quickly ducked into Flourish and Blotts to let them know what texts to order in for his students before spending the rest of the day browsing in the shops. He had plenty of money on him so when he ended up in "The Little Potions Shoppe" he couldn't stop himself purchasing a few of the potions required for basic headache cures and sleeping draughts. He had to speak very firmly with himself to talk himself out of buying the newest model broom available on the market. He still had the Firebolt Sirius had given him which had always served him well. It would do just fine. After all, he wasn't going to be playing any competition sport on it, in fact, he'd probably barely be using it. It had been quite a while since he had flown. He had learned to drive since setting himself up in Muggle London and had swapped his fascination with brooms for a love of cars instead. He had sold his car before returning to Hogwarts, telling himself that he could easily buy another one when he returned. Still, he missed his little Astin Minor.
All in all, it was a tired Harry who fell asleep in his armchair that night as he was thinking about Greg. He planned to go into Muggle London to do a bit of shopping the next day before really settling down to plan his lessons.
*****
Harry was greeted at his pharmacy by many friendly cries of "Hi Jason!".
"Hi Jason, what brings you back here?" asked Tony, Harry's friend from uni. Harry and Tony worked together and Harry had left him in charge while he was on leave for the year.
"Hey Tony, I just wanted to mix up a few painkillers for myself."
"Within legal limits Jason, I don't want to get into any sort of trouble."
"Never Tony!" Harry and Tony went out the back where Harry began to pull together the ingredients for the headache tablets and sleeping tablets he'd been running low on. Tony looked at Harry for along time before quietly asking "How are you really Jason, and don't lie, I can see it in your eyes, I just want you to tell me if I'm seeing it right."
"It's hard Tony. Really hard. It's like I just lost a really big part of me and my whole body is still aching and trying to shift itself around trying to ease the ache but nothing seems to be working. I'll be fine, I just need some time away I think."
"Yeah, I think you do. But just be careful. I know what you're making there. Just don't let those pills become your best friends, alright? I know you're not stupid Jason, I just needed to say it, that's all."
"Thanks Tony. I won't. It's just for right now. I won't let it become more than that. I know what it could do to me."
They worked together in companionable silence after that, stopping only talk of inconsequential matters like soccer scores and England's chances of winning the cricket match against Zimbabwe.
"Oh yeah, before you leave, that sports shop rang up. Your stuff is in. What did you order in anyway?"
"Exercise equipment. A home gym Tony. I'm going to be bigger and more buff than ever before, just you wait."
"You don't need toning up anymore. You're pretty buff as you are. If I were that way inclined, you'd be in danger of having me chase after you."
Harry laughed. Tony had always been fantastic about the fact that he was gay. If anything, he seemed really proud to have a gay friend. "Don't worry Tony, I iam/i that way inclined and you very nearly were in danger of having me chase after you."
"I'm touched. See you 'round. Don't be a stranger o.k?"
Harry was initially very concerned when he learned that in order to join a wizard gym you were required to register your magical signature, which would be kept for the purposes of identifying the patron. This replaced the use for the little plastic cards that muggles dealt with and kept losing all the time. Hell no thought Harry. * I'd be doomed. They'll know who I am for sure. My concealment charms are good, but they're not that good. * With that in mind, Harry had contacted a shop that sold sporting equipment and was conveniently a short distance from his own pharmacy and ordered a home gym ensemble in for himself. Money was no object. He earned a pretty decent living as a chemist and he still had a tidy fortune in Gringotts.
He paused to admire the equipment before paying the store owner for it. He loved exercising. It had become more than just an idle habit for him from the time he was fifteen. On the pretense of transporting the items to his car he borrowed a wheeled trolley from the store owner and took the equipment around the corner to a fairly well deserted street. There he apparated with the equipment back to Hogsmeade and dragged the equipment back to Hogwarts. When he had the equipment set up in a corner of his living room, he briefly wondered whether the shop owner would miss his trolley. He decided he'd return it when he went back that way. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He hadn't been to the gym in a few days now and he wanted to start working out again. Eager to get started, he stripped off the shirt he was wearing and began to work.
*****
Harry seated himself on the end of the staff table The professors customarily seated themselves at the staff table before the students arrive so they were in a position to "receive" the students. Harry had specifically asked for an end seat. He didn't like to feel like he couldn't leave in a hurry. He hated feeling hemmed in. He could have maintained that that was a symptom of his annoying agoraphobia, but common sense told him that this was a residue of his overly trained body. He was trained to be cautious and to always leave an escape route open to him wherever he may be. He could still remember the Aurors who trained him so many years ago repeatedly saying:
"Just because a situation doesn't look threatening doesn't mean that it can't be. The most innocent of situations can quickly deteriorate. People, as a rule, are unpredictable, so learn to expect the unexpected."
* Yes sir, * he mentally saluted. He swore by this rule to this very day. No one could every accuse him of letting his guard down, even in a school full of children.
One of the advantages of this situation was that Professor Snape also customarily sat on the end of the table. This meant that he was all the way up the other end of the staff table, as far away from Harry as possible. On the down side, he was sitting right next to Hermione, who was sitting right next to Ron. As Hermione and Ron walked into the Great Hall together, they did the strangest thing. They walked to a large plaque situated on the wall behind Albus' seat. Hermione kissed two of her fingers and then gently laid those fingers on the plaque, effectively laying a kiss onto the plaque. Ron gently lay a hand on the plaque. They then turned around and made their way to their seats. Hermione noticed Jason watching them.
"I know it looks strange, but it really isn't. Have you seen the plaque?"
"No, I haven't."
"Go and have a look. You won't be sorry. I promise."
Harry pushed his seat back and limped over to have a look. He gasped, and it was a good thing that no one was near enough to him to hear him do it. The plaque was dedicated to him. It read:
"In loving dedication to Harry Potter, a shining example of courage, strength and bravery. Through his light we honour the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity."
In smaller letters near the bottom of the plaque were the words:
"A small ray of light can push away the darkest cloud".
* A plaque? How bizarre. It was a nice gesture I guess, but it's not really me is it? * It was only then that he saw engraved in scratchy letters, as though someone had taken a pair of scissors to the plaque "Our greatest hero, and our greatest friend. We miss you Harry, Love Ron & Hermione." * Oh my gosh. I miss you too guys * he thought.
Thank you to everyone who reviewed the story. A big thank you to my beta reader (I may have to promote her to "editor" as her attention to detail and her encouragement are fantastic). Your efforts are greatly appreciated.
I am working on getting FFnet to get the italics into the text. Until I get on top of it, thoughts will be in asterisks, * like so *.
NB: One of my reviewers has observed that my author page won't accept anonymous reviewers. I've corrected that now so if anybody would like to review anonymously I'd love to hear from you. I really really would.
Annephoenix: The confusion will be addressed in Chapter 6. Couldn't convincingly address it any earlier.
CHAPTER 4
It was the day before Harry was supposed to move into Hogwarts, and it was about 4:00 in the afternoon when he finally returned to his flat. The flat was almost empty now. He had sold most of the furniture and had just returned from helping to deliver the last of it to the warehouse that had bought it. The only items of furniture he could not bring himself to sell were the two armchairs which he and his lover would sit in after dinner to unwind and relax after a long day. Greg had bought them as a gift for Harry when he moved into the flat and they were irreplaceable.
Harry sat down in his armchair (he'd never sit in Greg's) and rubbed his aching muscles. Harry had been in peak physical condition during days when he had been taken to train for the battle between himself and Voldemort. He had continued to keep himself in good physical condition after his departure from the wizarding world, but even he had to admit to himself that he was going to be sore for a few days. He had woken early to help the men from the warehouse to transport away most of the furniture. He could easily have moved the furniture using magic, but the strenuous exercise and genuine pain of aching muscles was a good distraction for Harry. He needed the distraction that hard work and the company of workmen had provided him.
It had been two weeks and he still couldn't put a proper lid on his grief. He reasoned that this was not unusual. He and his partner had been together for about seven years. Two weeks was just too soon to put something like that behind him. Besides, he'd been more or less completely on his own for just about the whole time since his lover had passed on. He had been with Greg's parents for the funeral but had chosen to isolate himself from all company since then. Perhaps he might be able to make some real progress in getting a handle on his grief once he started teaching and throwing himself into the task of preparing his classes and teaching his students. He'd be in a new environment, facing new challenges.
Harry pushed himself out of his chair and headed for the bedroom. He had booked a room for the night at an inn in Hogsmeade and had only to pack up the clothes in the bedroom before he could check in for the evening. He had tried to do this a week ago, but couldn't. Now there could be no more excuses. He had to do this so he could leave this flat and move on.
He took a deep breath and opened the door to the wardrobe. He reached out a hand to gently stroke the clothes on Greg's side of the wardrobe. Harry started pulling his shirts and pants off their hangers but stopped after only a short time. He raised one of the shirts to his face and inhaled deeply. He could still smell his musky cologne on the shirt. He looked at the clothes and smiled to himself. He had never met anybody with as wide a taste in clothing as Greg. He wore everything from jeans and t-shirts, to exercise shorts and tank tops, to dress shirts and trousers, to fashionable tight leather clothing. He remembered being shocked when Greg first moved in at the number, and variety, of clothes he owned. He remembered helping him to hang all of his clothes up on hangers.
"How do you find the time, or the occasion, to wear all of these?"
"Well, I obviously don't wear them all at once, but stick around babe and I'll show you how I wear all of these." Greg replied with a sexy smile.
Harry was a sucker for that smile. He dropped the shirt he was preparing to hang up and pinned his lover up against the cupboard door, kissing him thoroughly and grinding their bodies together. They didn't get much unpacking done after that.
Harry cleared his head and looked at the time. He had to get a move on if he was going to be at the inn in time for the evening check in. He couldn't bring himself to give away Greg's clothes. He'd sooner cut off his right arm. So he carefully folded them and packed them into his travelling bags. He'd be taking them with him. Once that difficult task was over, it took him little enough time to fold his own clothes into his own travelling bags. He took a final look around the bare room. Shadows of Greg were everywhere, and they were particularly strong in this room.
An ache filled him. He needed his lover, his partner, his other half. An idea occurred to him. He opened Greg's bags and pulled out a long sleeved blue cotton shirt and a pair of blue jeans. He then pulled out a pair of socks and joggers. They were both of a similar build - light and lean but well toned - but Harry was a few inches shorter.
He pulled off his clothes and reached for the shirt. As he did this, he caught his reflection in the wardrobe mirror. He normally didn't really pay attention to himself in the mirror, after all, he knew what he looked like and he didn't particularly like what he saw in the mirror anyway. This time though, shirt in hand, he approached his reflection. Muscles rippled beneath his skin as he moved toward the mirror and reached out his hand to touch the image.
"Scars. So many scars. From too many battles." Harry recalled the first time Greg had seen those scars. They had just returned from an intimate dinner and, on impulse, Harry had invited him back to the flat.
They kissed deeply and hungrily as Harry pushed Greg backwards through the flat and toward the bedroom. His soon-to-be-lover's hands untucked Harry's shirt from his trousers and he pulled it up and over his head, tossing it across the room. He paused to really look at Harry. Harry's heart thudded uncomfortably in his throat. * Oh God, please don't tell me he's going to run away! * Harry thought desperately to himself. But Greg didn't take his hands off Harry for a single moment.
"How did you get all of these scars Jason? Pharmacology isn't that tough, is it?"
Harry wasn't expecting him to see his scars this evening so he was caught unprepared. He tried to think quickly, but his brain wasn't functioning too well at that moment. Something to do with hormones.
"I was in a car accident a couple of years ago."
"What happened?"
"It was just my friend and me in the car. My friend was driving. A car swerved to our side of the road. I don't remember too much. I remember there was lots of yelling and big bright headlights. And then I remember waking up in hospital a week later. My friend died, and everyone in the other car died as well. I was lucky."
"A car accident?"
"Yes."
"Scarring front and back?"
"Yes."
"Must have been one hell of an accident."
"It was."
Greg and Harry picked up where they left off after that.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Harry shrugged himself into Greg's clothes. He rolled the sleeves of the shirt up twice and did the same to the legs of the jeans. * Not too bad * he thought to himself. He felt oddly comforted now and it seemed to give him an energy he'd been missing for the last two weeks. He shrank his luggage and the two chairs and apparated to his inn where he was shown to a small room that would be his for the night.
"I'll have some dinner waiting for you downstairs Sir. Is that okay, or would you rather I bring it up here?" asked the young employee.
Harry hadn't really been eating regularly for about a fortnight now, but he found that he was really quite hungry today. * Probably because of all that work I did today with the furniture * he thought to himself.
"I'll follow you down" he replied as he put his shrunken luggage into one of the bedside drawers. He'd deal with them later.
*****
Dinner was uneventful and Harry spent a quiet evening engaged in idle chatter with the other patrons of the inn. He had thought briefly about eating in his room, but he'd been out of touch with this world for seven years and he hoped he'd be able to learn some information about how everything had been since he'd left. About all Harry managed to find out was that after Voldemort's defeat, things had more or less been peaceful. There had been rumours of attempts to regather a dark force to rally against the light, and every time a crime was committed these rumours seemed to surface. People were still edgy. They had not known peace for such a long time that they were immediately willing to assume the worst. * Can't say I blame them really. Best to be over cautious rather than under cautious. *
Harry also managed to learn that the Chudley Cannons had taken the Quidditch Cup the last three years running. * That'll make Ron happy * Harry mused to himself. He felt a pang of guilt. He wondered what had happened to Ron and Hermione. He'd always regretted leaving them without saying goodbye, but he knew that if he had tried to say good bye to them they would never have let him leave.
As evening turned into night, Harry trudged back to his rooms and searched for his sleeping pills out of habit. He swallowed them with a glass of water. He was barely coping during the day. He didn't feel up to trying to cope with his grief in his dreams as well, not just yet, anyway. The sleeping pills drove away his dreams and nightmares. * It's only until I get back on my feet * he silently told himself as he fell asleep on top of the bed.
*****
"I hope these rooms are to your liking Jason. Feel free to arrange the rooms as you please and to change the décor if you wish."
"Minerva, the rooms are lovely. Thank you." The rooms were really quite lovely and already well furnished. There was a large living room which showcased a lovely big fireplace A well stocked kitchenette area adjoined the living room. There was a spacious bedroom with an adjoining bathroom. There was also a room off to the side of the living room which Minerva told him was a study, but could be used as whatever Harry wanted it to be.
"I'll leave you to it then. I'll be back at about quarter to twelve to show you where the staff meeting will be held." And she shut the door silently behind her, leaving Harry staring at his suite, wondering what to do and where to start.
The only problem with his suite was that the walls were painted in green and silver and the furniture matched those colours. The last person who stayed in the room had to have been a Slytherin. That had to be changed. Harry concentrated and wove his magic, letting the rooms know that blue was a much nicer colour. The rooms responded to his intent and soon the rooms, and the furniture, were decorated in varying shades of blue, one of his favourite colours.
Once that was taken care of, Harry moved to the bedroom to begin unpacking, which didn't really take as long as he would have expected, considering how difficult he had found it to pack up the flat. He did however have a moment of uncertainty as he held a framed photograph of he and his lover. He decided to put the photograph into the top drawer of the chest of drawers next to the bed. When he was coping a little better, he'd take it out of the drawer and stand it on top of the chest of drawers. Right now, it would be too painful for him.
He noticed he was still wearing the clothes from the evening before and decided that he didn't really need to change them. After all, no one here knew that he'd slept in these clothes and he'd only be seeing the staff briefly at the staff meeting today anyway.
The bathroom was the next place that Harry decided to set up. As a chemist, he always had a well stocked medicine cabinet. After setting unpacking everything that belonged in the bathroom though, he realised that he was running very low on headache medication and sleeping tablets. He'd have to take a trip into London to pick up some more. As a chemist, the only medication he took that he didn't have a hand in making himself was the Panadeine headache tablets. He always preferred to mix his own medicines as he could tailor the medication to his own specific body and needs. Idly he thought to himself that since he was here he could actually mix up some potions of his own that would serve his purposes. He had had a very good grounding in the study and practice of potions during the years that he spent training for his battle against Voldemort. His trainers had told him that this was an invaluable field of study as he could make his own poisons, antidotes, serums, medications, healing balms and much more. As a potions student under Professor Snape, Harry had been indifferent at best. Under Kingsley Shacklebolt, one of the Ministry Aurors engaged to train him, he had excelled in the study. This ultimately led to his pursuit of a career in pharmacology when he left the wizarding world.
But he felt more comfortable with the idea of taking muggle medication though and, for the time being at least, he resolved to stick with them. * This is just until I get back on my feet. I won't need them after that. *
After modifying the study so that it could easily accommodate the needs of a professor who would be doing research, making lesson plans and grading papers, as well as the needs of a pharmacologist and a potions maker, he found he had some time left before Minerva would be looking for him. He decided that he may as well have some breakfast while he waited. He picked up one of Greg's suitcases and made his way to the kitchen. After Harry had returned from identifying his lover's body, he had tried to make himself a cup of coffee but he found that he couldn't do anything in the kitchen with the "tools of Greg's trade" staring at him from all corners. So he had packed the cooking things into one of his suitcases and stored it away to take with him when he moved. They had travelled with him to Hogwarts and Harry carefully put them all away in the kitchenette area of his suite before he set about making some toast and coffee.
*****
Harry already knew his way around Hogwarts very well, but he allowed himself to be guided by Minerva who pointed out different rooms and passages to him while he nodded and made the appropriate polite inquiries. She was setting an annoying slow pace and this stemmed from her unnecessary concern over his permanent limp. No amount of hinting that she could move faster seemed to hurry her pace at all. In fact, she pointed out that she walked at this pace the last time she had guided him through the school and he didn't complain then. That was true, but he had also been groping along half blind from trying to use Greg's contact lenses. He had since been to the optometrist and had several sets of coloured contact lenses made up with his prescription so he could see perfectly well this time around. He still kept Greg's contacts in one of his bedside drawers though. Sighing, Harry resigned himself to the concern of the Deputy Headmistress.
"And here is the staff common room. The staff may use this room whenever they wish. We also use this room for staff meetings, so here we are. Let me introduce you to everyone."
And so began the long round of introductions. He knew a number of the professors already, as they had been his professors when he was a student. There were some new additions to the staff though and Harry stopped dead in his tracks when he was introduced to Hermione Weasley, the Arithmancy professor, and Ron Weasley, the Muggle Studies professor. * I don't know what you're so surprised about, Hermione was either going into research or teaching. But what's Ron doing here? And they're married. Gosh. How much have I missed? * Harry thought to himself. He mentally thanked the gruelling training that he had endured when he was younger that allowed him to appear outwardly calm in the face of such a shock though. He mouthed the appropriate "Pleased to meet you" phrases and was quickly ushered to a seat as the meeting was about to begin. He ended up sitting next to Professor Snape. * Half my bloody luck * he mentally cursed himself.
He listened while Albus made some comments about renovations being made to the castle and modifications being made to the security and defence systems around the case. When Albus formally introduced him to the staff in the room as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor, Professor Snape could not help but interrupt and request a word with the Headmaster. "Can this wait Severus?"
"No Headmaster, I don't think it can."
"Please, talk amongst yourselves for a few minutes." Sighed Albus as he and Professor Snape drew themselves to one side of the room. They conducted their conversation in hushed voices. Even so, Professor Snape was gesturing with his hands and would glance or gesture toward Harry every now and then during their conversation. Harry had some skill with reading lips. It was a very handy skill to have during the war. He had been unlucky enough to have been caught and tortured for information on a couple of occasions. His hearing was often affected by the pain inflicted on him, or else distracted by the noise around him. This handy little skill often let him know what the people around him were saying, when they were foolish enough to speak to each other where he could still see them. Also, on a battlefield where there is noise all around it is sometimes difficult to hear what your comrades are trying to say to you. This reduced the need for unnecessary yelling during a battle where the person was unable to use their customised sign language. Harry smiled privately.
"With all due respect Albus, you have hired a complete unknown. I've made some inquiries of my own and nobody in the wizarding world has ever heard of 'Jason Green'. Don't you think that a man who has made an effort to achieve secrecy might have done so for a sinister purpose? Do you think it wise to hire someone like that?"
"We have had this conversation before Severus. You needn't have interrupted the meeting to have it again. Many of us have secrets, but it does not necessarily make us untrustworthy." Albus directed a piercing gaze at the potions master who had the good grace to look ashamed at the statement. Professor Snape returned to his seat, apparently silenced by Albus, but Harry knew that the Professor was not one to give up so easily when he had a point to make.
Albus resumed the meeting. "Perhaps now would be a good time to begin discussing our subject syllabuses for the year."
Harry listened quietly to the other Professors while they discussed their plans for their classes this year. Most of them just said that they would be sticking with the syllabus they had been using for the last however many years they had been teaching for. Professor Snape, on the other hand, would be changing the syllabus.
"He changes his syllabus every year" Minerva whispered to Harry from her seat in front of him. "He keeps up with an enormous amount of research and experimentation and he changes his course all the time. It's embarrassing actually because the rest of us should really do the same thing but quite frankly, I just don't have the energy to do it." Minerva whispered in awe and respect. "If you ever tell him I said that I'll deny everything though ." She added as an aside. Harry stifled a laugh and listened as Professor Snape finished his presentation.
"If you keep working yourself this hard Severus I'm afraid we'll lose you before your time. Right now Jason, what have you decided to do?"
"To be honest Albus, I haven't really planned for anything beyond what I explained in your office. I thought now that I was more conveniently situated, I'd do some leg work, speak to some people about Defence and try and find suitable texts for the class this week and plan from there.
"Do you have particular people in mind, whom you wish to speak to?" asked Professor Snape coldly.
"No, I thought I'd make a few inquiries and find out who the best people to speak to would be."
"Please choose your contacts carefully. There are many people out there whom we know nothing about, or whose identities are surrounded by dubious and highly suspicious circumstances. As such, it would be unwise to trust them, as I'm sure you'll agree." Stated Professor Snape while giving Harry a knowing glare.
Harry met the glare and held it. Without breaking the eye contact he said "Does it really bother you that you don't know very much about me Professor? Why is it so important that I make public every last detail about myself?"
"Enough Severus. I am sorry Jason. I want you to know that you would not be sitting in this room at this moment if I thought to you be a threat to my staff and students." Harry and Professor Snape turned their attention toward the Headmaster.
"That's quite alright Albus. I don't blame the Professor for being cautious. I would feel the same way if I were in his seat. After all, history has taught us very well that people aren't always who they appear to be, and we'd be fools not to listen to the teachings of history, wouldn't we?" It was an innocent enough statement but it evoked a range of silent reactions from the staff. Professor Snape's role as a spy for the light had been kept a secret from the public for the safety and protection of the Professor. Those in the room who knew of the Professor's double life wondered briefly if that statement was directed at him. That was an absurd notion though, wasn't it? This new acquaintance could not possibly know of his secret. Professor Snape was not as quick to dismiss the comment though. He studied Jason through narrow eyes. * What could he have meant by that? * The Professor wondered. * Hmmm... *
Harry silently congratulated himself on his small victory. He had meant the statement to be a slap in the face to the Professor. * He can't talk. He was a bloody Death Eater for goodness' sake until he switched sides. He's presenting so many faces to the world I'm surprised he can keep them all straight in his head! On the other hand, I don't think I'm in any position to start preaching about the hypocrisy of pretending to be someone that I'm not. *
He turned to find Albus giving him a very piercing gaze. He looked right into those eyes with his artificial dark brown ones and blinked innocently. "I just meant that the war with "you-know-who" taught us all some pretty valuable lessons, didn't it?"
"Yes, yes it did. Did you have anything else planned for your classes, Jason?" asked Albus after a pause, as he hurried to steer the conversation away from the awkward topic that had arisen.
"Not really Albus. I still plan to find out what level the students are up to though and I still plan to teach them how to defend themselves properly before I do anything else. If they can't defend themselves properly, I expect that there'll be a lot of nasty accidents in classes-"
"And you are qualified to be able to teach that?" interrupted Professor Snape.
"I beg your pardon?" asked Harry.
"Perhaps the question was impertinent, but I know that you have no experience as a teacher and you come with no references to support yourself. If you cannot teach these students properly you will only be doing them more harm than good."
Several members of staff raised their eyebrows at the comment. Albus just shook his head slowly. Harry wasn't particularly shocked though. He knew enough about the nature of his Potions Master to have expected him to say something like this. * I'm better than you could possibly imagine you slimy bat, * thought Harry to himself, but he simply said "I have never found my skills to be inadequate Professor."
"And yet you have no credentials with which to recommend yourself?"
* I got rid of Voldemort you greasy sod, how's that for credentials? * Harry silently bragged, however, he replied "Nothing in writing, Professor".
"That could mean anything."
"I guess it could."
"Just how skilled are you?"
"Severus, please. I must ask that you cease this behaviour at once." Commanded Albus. "Jason, I apologise for the rudeness."
"Albus, I can tell that the Professor is a cautious man. His concern for the well being of his students is commendable." Harry paused to stifle the laugh that was at the back of his throat. Once he was sure he would be able to speak without laughing, he turned to Professor Snape and said:
"That depends on what, or who, you compare me to."
"As compared to me then, or anyone in this room."
"I have no idea. I met you for the first time two weeks ago after my interview with the Headmaster, and I only met most of the people in this room today."
Professor Snape paused.
"Where were you educated?"
"I assume you are asking where I received my wizarding education. I was educated down south in a small school."
"So you didn't receive much of an education then?"
"If you're assuming that only people who are educated at Hogwarts are educated properly, then you'd be sadly mistaken Professor. I don't feel that my education lacked anything, as you'll see when I begin teaching my classes."
"Can you defend yourself?"
"Of course. Why, were you planning to hex me?"
Snape ignored the question. "Have you had experience in battle?"
Harry paused. "The time of Voldemort was a dark time for all of us. I think you would be hard pressed, Professor, to find any adult witch or wizard who was not involved with the battle against the dark in one way or another."
Harry knew that he was being deliberately vague and that it would probably make the other professors think he had something to hide he didn't care. He just wanted to put Snape in his place. * We're on equal footing now Professor, after all, we're both professors in our field aren't we? * Harry managed to rationalise his behaviour to himself by telling himself that the other Professors were probably already suspicious, no doubt having heard that he had no references or credentials or even background to recommend his skills or his loyalty. His behaviour today wouldn't have revealed his secret.
"Severus, I must ask you to show some courtesy and respect to a fellow professor. I am sure he will serve us very well. I have a good feeling about this young man, and I'm not often wrong about this sort of thing, am I?" A private glance was shared between Albus and Severus, and then the Professor ceased his line of questioning.
"I think you'll find that you and Professor Green have much in common. You see, he was a chemist in muggle London and owned his own pharmacy." Turning to Harry, Albus continued, "That is an interesting career choice Jason. Have you always had a love of pharmacology?"
"I originally began studying medicine at uni, but I switched to pharmacology soon after that."
"Why on earth? Wouldn't it have been rewarding to be involved in the saving of lives." Minerva commented.
* I was already intimately involved with the pressure of saving lives, remember Minerva? I was the champion of wizards, I was supposed to save everybody from the dark. I was supposed to save everybody's lives. I didn't save nearly as many people as I should have though. I didn't want to be responsible for any more deaths! I'd had enough. * Harry privately thought to himself.
"Pharmacology allowed me more concrete working hours than medicine ever would, and the mixing of medicines can be just as rewarding and can save just as many lives. I prefer to work behind the scenes. I don't like being at the forefront. Just too much pressure I think."
"Severus, isn't pharmacology similar to the study of potions?" asked Albus, politely, more to ease the tension in the room than for any real interest in the answer.
"The study of potions is far more subtle than the muggle study of pharmacology. Pharmacology requires that the chemist mix together a set of ingredients. Potions requires as much study of technique as of ingredients."
* You pompous git! * Mused Harry.
"As you are the expert in this area, I shall defer to your judgment Professor." Said Harry congenially as Albus shook his head in exasperation.
"Right, I think we should take a five minute break. I'll be right back."
Harry looked around the room as people began getting up and moving around. Harry was quite happy to stay exactly where he was, and so, apparently, was Professor Snape. He stretched in his seat and extended his legs to put his feet up on one the back of one of the seats in front of him.
"Didn't your parents ever teach you that it's bad manners to put your feet up on the furniture?" asked Professor Snape coldly.
"My parents died when I was younger and so I'm sure a gentleman such as yourself would be polite enough to excuse the fact that I have a few rough edges. If, however, I offend your sensibilities then I suggest that you move to another part of the room where you can't see me." Answered Harry just as coldly. An onslaught of painful memories, the only memories he actually had of his parents, erupted within Harry:
* "Lily, he's here. Take Harry and run. I'll hold him off." Cried James Potter. *
* "Please not Harry, not Harry. Kill me instead." Screamed a young Lily Potter as she shielded her baby from the dark wizard before her. *
* A high pitched and cold voice called out "Avada Kedavra!" and then laughed cruelly as Lily screamed. A flash of bright green light ended his mother's life. *
-----
Emotions surfaced which he hadn't felt in a long time. It wasn't as though he had forgotten his parents, or had forgotten the pain associated with their deaths and never having a chance to know them, but his life with his lover had helped to ease the loneliness he had felt. Now, without Greg, the loss of his parents reminded him all too keenly that he was alone. That just about everybody he had loved had died. It seemed that he was destined to be utterly alone.
Harry was fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill over from the fresh wave of pain. He got up out of his seat and left the room. He walked a small distance down the hall and hid inside an alcove. He took deep, steadying breaths in an effort to calm himself. Once he felt in control again (or as close to it as he had been these past couple of weeks) he walked back to the room and re-claimed his seat in time for the meeting to begin again. He couldn't help but notice that Professor Snape would occasionally glance at him and give him odd looks. Harry wished that he'd just leave him alone and look elsewhere. * Snape is all alone. I wonder if I'll end up like him when I'm older. There's something to look forward to. *
The meeting finally ended and Harry sought out the sanctuary of his own rooms.
*****
Harry had arrived at Hogsmeade early that morning so that he could use the library. He had decided that he would choose what texts he would use for his classes as soon as possible so that he could begin planning his classes. After all, school started in two weeks and he had no idea what he was going to do.
He had discovered that there had been many books written on the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts. He spent the next three days in the library seemingly devouring the books. Some were good, many just simply said the same thing. One of the most interesting books he found was a study into the nature of the unforgivable curses. Not really an appropriate text to recommend for purchase, but he made a note to have a copy purchased for the school library. Though he had decided on the texts to be used, he didn't find a single book that seemed to suit his needs for the class. All the books seemed to be lacking in something. They seemed to be adequate when dealing with the theory of the curse but often did not delve enough into the origins and the workings of the curse to give the reader a proper understanding. Most of the books did not even describe the effects of the curse adequately. He briefly entertained the idea of writing a Defence Against the Dark Arts Book, after all, he certainly was an authority on the subject....
Harry had forgotten how busy Diagon Alley was at this time of the year. He quickly ducked into Flourish and Blotts to let them know what texts to order in for his students before spending the rest of the day browsing in the shops. He had plenty of money on him so when he ended up in "The Little Potions Shoppe" he couldn't stop himself purchasing a few of the potions required for basic headache cures and sleeping draughts. He had to speak very firmly with himself to talk himself out of buying the newest model broom available on the market. He still had the Firebolt Sirius had given him which had always served him well. It would do just fine. After all, he wasn't going to be playing any competition sport on it, in fact, he'd probably barely be using it. It had been quite a while since he had flown. He had learned to drive since setting himself up in Muggle London and had swapped his fascination with brooms for a love of cars instead. He had sold his car before returning to Hogwarts, telling himself that he could easily buy another one when he returned. Still, he missed his little Astin Minor.
All in all, it was a tired Harry who fell asleep in his armchair that night as he was thinking about Greg. He planned to go into Muggle London to do a bit of shopping the next day before really settling down to plan his lessons.
*****
Harry was greeted at his pharmacy by many friendly cries of "Hi Jason!".
"Hi Jason, what brings you back here?" asked Tony, Harry's friend from uni. Harry and Tony worked together and Harry had left him in charge while he was on leave for the year.
"Hey Tony, I just wanted to mix up a few painkillers for myself."
"Within legal limits Jason, I don't want to get into any sort of trouble."
"Never Tony!" Harry and Tony went out the back where Harry began to pull together the ingredients for the headache tablets and sleeping tablets he'd been running low on. Tony looked at Harry for along time before quietly asking "How are you really Jason, and don't lie, I can see it in your eyes, I just want you to tell me if I'm seeing it right."
"It's hard Tony. Really hard. It's like I just lost a really big part of me and my whole body is still aching and trying to shift itself around trying to ease the ache but nothing seems to be working. I'll be fine, I just need some time away I think."
"Yeah, I think you do. But just be careful. I know what you're making there. Just don't let those pills become your best friends, alright? I know you're not stupid Jason, I just needed to say it, that's all."
"Thanks Tony. I won't. It's just for right now. I won't let it become more than that. I know what it could do to me."
They worked together in companionable silence after that, stopping only talk of inconsequential matters like soccer scores and England's chances of winning the cricket match against Zimbabwe.
"Oh yeah, before you leave, that sports shop rang up. Your stuff is in. What did you order in anyway?"
"Exercise equipment. A home gym Tony. I'm going to be bigger and more buff than ever before, just you wait."
"You don't need toning up anymore. You're pretty buff as you are. If I were that way inclined, you'd be in danger of having me chase after you."
Harry laughed. Tony had always been fantastic about the fact that he was gay. If anything, he seemed really proud to have a gay friend. "Don't worry Tony, I iam/i that way inclined and you very nearly were in danger of having me chase after you."
"I'm touched. See you 'round. Don't be a stranger o.k?"
Harry was initially very concerned when he learned that in order to join a wizard gym you were required to register your magical signature, which would be kept for the purposes of identifying the patron. This replaced the use for the little plastic cards that muggles dealt with and kept losing all the time. Hell no thought Harry. * I'd be doomed. They'll know who I am for sure. My concealment charms are good, but they're not that good. * With that in mind, Harry had contacted a shop that sold sporting equipment and was conveniently a short distance from his own pharmacy and ordered a home gym ensemble in for himself. Money was no object. He earned a pretty decent living as a chemist and he still had a tidy fortune in Gringotts.
He paused to admire the equipment before paying the store owner for it. He loved exercising. It had become more than just an idle habit for him from the time he was fifteen. On the pretense of transporting the items to his car he borrowed a wheeled trolley from the store owner and took the equipment around the corner to a fairly well deserted street. There he apparated with the equipment back to Hogsmeade and dragged the equipment back to Hogwarts. When he had the equipment set up in a corner of his living room, he briefly wondered whether the shop owner would miss his trolley. He decided he'd return it when he went back that way. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. He hadn't been to the gym in a few days now and he wanted to start working out again. Eager to get started, he stripped off the shirt he was wearing and began to work.
*****
Harry seated himself on the end of the staff table The professors customarily seated themselves at the staff table before the students arrive so they were in a position to "receive" the students. Harry had specifically asked for an end seat. He didn't like to feel like he couldn't leave in a hurry. He hated feeling hemmed in. He could have maintained that that was a symptom of his annoying agoraphobia, but common sense told him that this was a residue of his overly trained body. He was trained to be cautious and to always leave an escape route open to him wherever he may be. He could still remember the Aurors who trained him so many years ago repeatedly saying:
"Just because a situation doesn't look threatening doesn't mean that it can't be. The most innocent of situations can quickly deteriorate. People, as a rule, are unpredictable, so learn to expect the unexpected."
* Yes sir, * he mentally saluted. He swore by this rule to this very day. No one could every accuse him of letting his guard down, even in a school full of children.
One of the advantages of this situation was that Professor Snape also customarily sat on the end of the table. This meant that he was all the way up the other end of the staff table, as far away from Harry as possible. On the down side, he was sitting right next to Hermione, who was sitting right next to Ron. As Hermione and Ron walked into the Great Hall together, they did the strangest thing. They walked to a large plaque situated on the wall behind Albus' seat. Hermione kissed two of her fingers and then gently laid those fingers on the plaque, effectively laying a kiss onto the plaque. Ron gently lay a hand on the plaque. They then turned around and made their way to their seats. Hermione noticed Jason watching them.
"I know it looks strange, but it really isn't. Have you seen the plaque?"
"No, I haven't."
"Go and have a look. You won't be sorry. I promise."
Harry pushed his seat back and limped over to have a look. He gasped, and it was a good thing that no one was near enough to him to hear him do it. The plaque was dedicated to him. It read:
"In loving dedication to Harry Potter, a shining example of courage, strength and bravery. Through his light we honour the strength of the human spirit in the face of adversity."
In smaller letters near the bottom of the plaque were the words:
"A small ray of light can push away the darkest cloud".
* A plaque? How bizarre. It was a nice gesture I guess, but it's not really me is it? * It was only then that he saw engraved in scratchy letters, as though someone had taken a pair of scissors to the plaque "Our greatest hero, and our greatest friend. We miss you Harry, Love Ron & Hermione." * Oh my gosh. I miss you too guys * he thought.