It was five minutes before the class period started that Ron Weasley and Harry Evans stumbled into Potions class. It had taken Harry exceedingly long to wake up Ron, and when he had succeeded it took Ron incredibly long to get ready and then have breakfast (Harry supposed this may have had something to do with Ron constantly staring at Hermione over breakfast). They came in and took their seats not a moment too soon. A few seconds later the doors banged open and Professor Snape waltzed through—with neon pink hair. Harry nearly bit his tongue off to keep from laughing. Every last student in the room looked very tempted to burst out in laughter and were probably breaking their ribs in an attempt to hold it in. Seamus, unfortunately for him, failed in his attempts to hide his laughter. Snape whirled around with a venom Harry had only seen once before.
"You think this is FUNNY, do you Finnigan? You think this is AMUSING?" Snape snarled. "Then perhaps you would like to join the TROUBLEMAKER who did this in a month's long DETENTION!" Though everyone was silent, they were all still laughing inside. Harry knew that Snape was lying, however. For one, any student that did that to him would be expelled or at least suspended, not just getting detention. For two, on the way down to the potion's classroom Harry had noticed Dumbledore gently berating a particularly gleeful Professor Black.
The class went on with no one saying anything because they were laughing too hard inside that they feared if they opened their mouths they might just burst into laughter. Snape whipped up a potion on the spot that quickly dissolved the pink back into black, much to Harry's great disappointment. When the class let out and was free from the dungeons, Harry and Ron collapsed on the ground in tears of laughter while Hermione settled on laughing on her feet in a much more dignified fashion.
"Blimey, did you see the look on Snape's face?" Ron said through his laughing fits.
"Professor Black did it; I know he did. I saw Dumbledore talking to him and he looked absolutely elated. Black I mean, not Dumbledore," Harry said.
"Points for the assistant teacher!" Ron laughed. Once the three had gained control of themselves they headed to their next class—Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Harry was a little skeptical of this class at first. After all, who had ever heard of anything as absurd as an assistant professor? Harry supposed he should trust Dumbledore's judgment, but he still felt that the idea was a little strange. Harry took a seat near the front of the class despite his feelings about an assistant teacher. Surprising to Harry, only Professor Potter walked through the door at the start of class.
"Good morning class!" Professor Potter said cheerfully before he took roll. Harry could only guess why he was so joyous. Obviously Snape bating was an old, enjoyable pastime. "Alright, since it's the first day of school, no homework. Let's do something fun today like—," Professor Potter began, but at that moment Professor Black came in through the back of the class.
"Like dueling!" he finished for him.
"Sure, like dueling. We need to assess how well you're doing in the class so we can see if you need to be in my class, or in Professor Black's class," Professor Potter said. Seamus raised his hand.
"Wait a minute, I thought Professor Black was just here to help out?" Seamus asked. Professor Potter shook his head.
"Not exactly. Due to recent events, the Headmaster wanted to make sure that students are receiving the best Defense Against the Dark Arts training. On days of double Defense Against the Dark Arts during the first half of class we will have normal class, then we will split off into two groups for the second half. Professor Black will teach most of you as well as those of you that struggle in this area while I will teach a select few of you more advanced studies. So! Do your very best in this dueling tournament—this and your past grades in the class will determine your placement for the next year," Professor Potter concluded.
The class gave an audible gulp—they all remembered the last time they had had to duel, and it definitely had not been pretty. Harry especially remembered the incident, and he wasn't too keen on repeating it. As it was, they still had to do as they were told, and so the first few people dueled. Professor Potter and Professor Black had all separated them out by grades and OWL scores. Those who had lower scores went first and had their own mini-tournament, and then the next lowest, then the next highest and so on and so forth. Harry was getting anxious when Hermione went and they hadn't called his name yet. Had they just forgotten him? When that tournament was over with, he realized almost everyone had gone but himself—in fact everyone had gone but him and Draco.
"Last we have a single duel for the two top students in this class—Draco Malfoy and Harry Evans!" Professor Black said in his best rendition of an announcer. The crowd cheered; they knew this would be a fight to remember. The Gryffindor fans, most of the crowd, immediately began to chant, "EVANS! EVANS! EVANS!" stomping twice in between each shout of 'EVANS!'. Harry felt his stomach drop—he hated pressure. Harry and Draco stepped onto the 'stage' meant for dueling.
"Ready to forfeit, Evans?" Malfoy said.
"You wish," replied Harry and on three they dueled. It was a good duel in which Harry did a very nice pirouette and Malfoy tap-danced like there was no tomorrow. It ended when finally Harry shouted, "Expelliarmus!". The spell hit Malfoy straight on, and he went flying backwards with his wand tossed out of his hand. Professor Black declared the match over and Harry the winner.
"So Evans, how does it feel to be the best Defense Against the Dark Arts student in your class and most likely your year?" Professor Black asked with a transfigured microphone in his most Rita Skeeter-like voice. Embarrassed, Harry just ignored the question. The crowd then came over and cheered his name over and over again. He hated all of the attention, and Professor Potter was quick to notice it.
"Alright, alright. Enough of that," Professor Potter said, and with a wave of his wand the stage was gone and the desks of the classroom had reappeared. "Sit down everyone." Right then however, the bell rang and everyone left the classroom. "Right then, never mind. Class is dismissed." With that the whole class left, except for Harry, who rummaged in his bag for his times table.
"On to divination then?" Ron asked Harry. Harry shook his head.
"Nah, I didn't pass. I guess I'll get a free period," Harry said and then he finally looked over to that period. To Harry's surprise, he found no free period there. Defense Against the Dark Arts 7 was what read in that slot. Harry shook his head. "There must be a mistake," he said.
"What mistake?" Ron asked, leaning over to look at the parchment.
"Is there a problem, Mr. Evans?" asked Professor Potter.
"Yeah," Harry said, handing him the times table. "I'm not a seventh year." Professor Potter looked at the times table and frowned.
"I've never heard of there being a scheduling mistake before," Professor Potter said. He then turned to a portrait in the room. "Phineas, would you be so kind as to fetch the Headmaster for me? I think we've a problem. Harry, for now just go with it and take a seat." Harry nodded and sat down while Ron shrugged and left. Shortly the seventh years began to arrive, and they all gave him strange looks.
"What are you doing in here, Evans? This is seventh year Defense." Asked a Ravenclaw he vaguely recognized as being named Clint.
"Ask whoever does the times table. Defense Against the Dark Arts 7 was on my times table in this slot," Harry said.
"Impossible! You aren't a seventh year!" Clint scoffed.
"You are correct Clint, he is not yet seventeen," said Professor Dumbledore from the doorway to the room. "However, we have made an exception for Mr. Evans as we feel he is not only capable of doing very well in this class, but with the uprising threat of Lord Voldemort we feel it is necessary to put him in this higher class."
Clint just gawked and Harry looked puzzled.
"Then what will I do next year, Professor?" Harry asked. Dumbledore just smiled.
"Ah, we will discuss that as time gets closer to next year. As it is for now, just be in this class and do not question it. Also, if you looked ahead in your times table which I doubt you did, you would notice that in place of History of Magic I took the liberty of putting you in a private study for Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Potter," Dumbledore said, and then without allowing Harry to protest or ask questions he simply left. Harry banged his head on the table as the bell rang. 'Great. Just great.'
James Potter was not surprised by many things. Being an auror who typically hunted down the most dangerous of Voldemort's followers had scorched any gene that might allow him to be surprised. In fact, the only other time James could remember being surprised was when he discovered that Lily had had a son that defeated the most evil of beings on the planet. That Harry Evans was in three of his classes, one being a class that was solely Harry, surprised him. He added Harry into the top duel for the seventh years to see how he would fair—surprisingly he beat the top seventh year he had. James was stunned by the boy's incredible ability.
James made his way up to the headmaster's office, wondering what on earth he could want to talk to him about. He went up the spiral staircase and knocked on the door.
"Ah James, please do come in," Professor Dumbledore said. James opened the door and took a seat on one of the large leather chairs in front of the Headmaster's desk that he was so familiar with.
"What did you need to speak with me about, Professor?" James said. The headmaster studied him for a moment.
"Please call me Albus now, James. I assumed you would be curious as to the placement of your student, Harry Evans," Dumbledore stated. James shrugged.
"I'm a little curious I suppose, but the boy's incredible power really explains it all, I think," James said. The boy's magical power emanated in gigantic waves not seen since Merlin himself James would think.
"Yes, the boy is a virtual magical powerhouse. However, that is not the only reason I gave him not one, not two but three defense classes. There is something I have shown only three living souls before—myself, Harry Evans and his mother, Lily Evans. It is something only six living people even know about, and three of those six don't even know the entire thing. Yet, to help you comprehend the importance of this situation and why you will be teaching a sixteen-year-old dark arts—yes, you will be teaching him dark arts in your private lessons with him—I will show this sacred Prophecy to you," professor Dumbledore said, walking over to his Pensieve and poking it with his wand. In the mist James recognized the Divination teacher, Sibyll Trelawaney. She spoke in a terribly harsh voice as she said:
"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORED APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NO…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HANDS OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURRVIVES…THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"
James sat back and blinked. The poor boy was doomed to be murdered or a murderer. He was condemned to face things that only Dumbledore had faced in his fight against Grindewald. Then that annoying part of his brain piped up again. 'Born to those who have thrice defied him…how many people did you know that had defied him three times? Frank, Alice, Lily…and you. Certainly Frank didn't father that boy…' it said. James shook it off—that was impossible, so he wouldn't even think of it. The nagging voice wanted to say more, but at that moment James realized the Professor was studying him intently.
"So, you see James, that is why you must teach him. Harry is our only hope," Professor Dumbledore said. James nodded numbly. He couldn't even imagine being sixteen and knowing you would kill or be killed at a very early age. What stunned him more was that Harry was a very good kid despite it all. Dumbledore was staring at James again. "Did you have something on your mind James? Something you wanted to ask me about?" James did have something on his mind, something he wanted to ask the Headmaster about. Yet he shook his head no. Dumbledore sighed. "Very well then. Off with you." James turned and put his hand on the doorknob. "Oh and James? Make the most of your lessons with Harry. Get to know him. You may be pleasantly surprised by what you find," Dumbledore said. Puzzled, James left the room. Why hadn't he asked Dumbledore? The old man was very kind, he surely would have given him an answer. So why did he chicken out like that? He was a Gryffindor! 'It's because you're afraid of the answer...' said that nasty little voice. James was beginning to hate the logical side of his mind more and more every day.