Chapter Two : First Day of Class
"Did you say, Harry Potter? You mean the Great 'Harry Potter'?"
"Just said it, didn't I? Honestly, mate. Where were you last night?"
"I thought it was just some sort of a prank from those horrible Gryffins."
"You find literally storming into the Great Hall a sort of a prank, eh?"
"No, no! That was bloody brilliant!"
"So, I'd thought."
"Blimey. I heard he used to teach Defense when he was only a student. He must be that good."
"Brandon, the man defeated you-know-who twice. Survived the killing curse twice. Saved the wizarding world more than twice. People even call him the Master of Death. I don't know what that means but if you think he's not that good enough, there's something wrong with your brain."
"Well, you can't blame me for being speculative."
There was a flap of rolled newspaper hitting someone's head followed by a loud "ouch!" from one of those two conversing Ravenclaw students.
Breakfast the next morning was noisier than the usual. People can't seem to get over talking about the stunting show their new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor had put up. Add it to the fact that it will be Harry Potter himself who will be teaching them. They thought they were the luckiest batch of students Hogwarts has ever had.
The Great Hall is humming an atmosphere of excitement. There's a good number of craning necks and eyes roaming around like hawks as they try to look for the raven-haired man with a lightning scar on his forehead. They stole glances at the Head Table several times only to end their meals with a groan of disappointment.
At that exact same moment, nobody knows the young Potter Lord decided to have his meal of toast with bacon and egg at the comfort of his personal quarters. Harry enjoyed the house elves pampering him with all sorts of food acting almost like Molly Weasley as they fill the table from loaves of bread to a pitcher of ice-cold pumpkin juice.
The first years were the ones to have a glimpse of him first just after their little feet had brought them into the Serpentine Corridor. They were greeted by the man in his Monday work clothes consisting of a charcoal gray waistcoat over a white dress shirt paired with the same color of tailored pants. His metal black shoes of high-quality leather gleaming splendidly beneath.
"Good morning, children." He beamed at the sight of their enthusiasm. Harry looked around and noticed several familiar faces. Some are distant nephews and nieces from different Houses under his lordship while others are godchildren living in the orphanage founded by the young man himself along with his friends.
"Good morning, sir." They chorused, except for a brown-haired boy sitting vivaciously in front.
"Callum, when we're at home, I'm your Uncle Harry," The brunet explained to the kid gently. "But since you're in my class, I'm your professor. Do you understand?"
"Yes Uncle… I mean, Professor." Callum's cheeks reddened amidst his friends' chuckles.
Harry ruffled his hair. The boy was an orphan and one of the closest to him. He was found in the muggle world roaming the streets of London who used to be under the care of a child-labor syndicate. A special force working under his agency in coordination with the Department of Child Welfare Services rescued the kid after weeks of constant surveillance. Harry personally led the operation in which to his outrage, he nearly tortured their leader to oblivion.
They were horrified to find out that the syndicate was aware of his abilities and used the poor boy to their personal interests. Stealing and pickpocketing by means of magic.
Since then, Callum lived in the Children's Village of LilJamestown, a lovely little hamlet for orphaned witches and wizards in Godric's Hollow. There, he was brought up and cared for by older children whom he learned to look up into as brothers and sisters of his own. They were so proud of him when he received his Hogwarts Letter which Harry handed over himself, carefully hidden inside his birthday gift.
"You'll get used to it, Callum. You got a whole year to practice." Harry winked at him.
The older wizard paced across the room as he started the class by creating a fun way of self-introduction.
"Let's play a game." He announced. A smirk draws up on Harry's face. His arm lifted and a pygmy puff appears on the palm of his hand. "His name is Duffy. Charming little fluffball, isn't he?"
Most of the girls gushed as soon as the fluffy little creature purrs like a cat. Probably his way of saying, 'hello' to everyone, they'd thought.
"Duffy here will be bouncing from one student to the next one." Harry explained while tickling it with his finger. "He will ask you one question at a time. Once he lands on your shoulder, you will reveal the answer to the class before he jumps into the other. If you don't, he'll remain on your shoulder as long as he pleased. Mind you. His tiny paws can be pretty ticklish." He wriggled his brows whereas stating the warning.
Soon enough, they found out what Harry was talking about. The longer he stayed on their skin, the more it tickles them. They were obliged to answer questions such as their nicknames, their likes, and their dislikes. Otherwise, they end up writhing in laughter from the tickling sensation Duffy's paws are causing them.
It was a fun activity with the pink fluffball jumping many times that lasted for nearly thirty minutes. Once it was over, everyone was cheering happily and Duffy is resting on top of Harry's scalp before vanishing it completely without using a wand.
"Now, it's time for the actual lesson." He claps his hand. "We will not be using those books for now. I want you to learn from this subject through practice. All you need is your wand."
Eyes widen in excitement, the children complied and shoved their books into their bags.
"Everyone ready? Excellent!" Harry looked around before he went ahead. "Before we learn the spells we use in defense, we have to understand first the concept of the arts. So, I'd like to ask you a question now. What is a Dark Art? And why do we have to defend ourselves from it?"
Several hands are up.
Harry smiled. It doesn't seem so bad to teach kids, he realized. Most of them have gone to the pre-magical school.
They knew their history.
They knew their fundamentals well.
"I will teach you how to use your wands instead of raising your hand." He suggested. "That would be easier."
They nodded, too eager to learn.
Oh, Merlin. He's proud of them.
"I'm telling you. He's bloody incredible!"
"Best Defense teacher ever."
"I hope he'll stay as our teacher until we graduate."
"Well, if the rumor is true that the subject is cursed, I won't put my hopes in it too much, mate."
"Oh! Come on. That's Harry Potter. Why do we always have to doubt him?"
"How could he cast those spells without his wand?"
"Sorcerers don't need their wands. That's what I heard of."
"You're joking!"
"That's wicked!"
The talk among the lower years drove the anticipation of the others. It's been nine years since the final battle and yet, there has never been a decent defense teacher to fill in the position. Which is why the sixth and seventh years were eyeing him hopeful looks, eager to learn as much as they could to make it up to pass their N.E.W.T.s.
They have no idea that the first lesson they will ever have to learn is not to anger the young man. Not when it has something to do with his looks or his anatomy in general.
Oh, how they wished they could've paid more attention to the warning McGonagall gave them and they won't have to suffer from the consequence.
"Miss Owens." A seventh-year girl flinch on her seat the moment her name was called.
"Ye – yes, sir."
Harry stood in front of the class. His arms folded on top of his chest. Some of the students swallowed a lump on their throats seeing the former Auror throwing them scary looks. They got confused when all of a sudden, his mood changes while they were having their discussions.
"I appreciate that you find my body somewhat interesting, young lady but I would rather have you focus on the class." He drawled. "A wizard can use his looks as a means of distraction to lure its prey. Glamour and polyjuice can be deceiving at times. It can take any form. Even those people we badly desire." Harry's stone-cold gazes are piercing through her eyes. "And stop drooling, for crying out loud." His frightening hiss has caused everyone else to jump from their seats.
"I – I don't know what you mean, sir." She stammers.
A non-verbal spell resembling an Accio sparks out of Harry's hand and a rolled magazine swoops in the air after it flew out of her bag. It's a copy of Witch Weekly with his moving photo in it, wearing nothing but a quaffle he held in both hands barely covering the mid-portion of his groins. Harry looked mortified to see himself winking at him seductively. He tried to recall when it was taken and when he did, mumbled something about murdering someone that sounds more like 'Zabini'.
No wonder he noticed half of the class eyeing his bum hungrily in the past hour.
Plus, that lip bite! It's outrageous!
Oh, how he wished he hadn't had agreed to have that photo taken. It was a promotion ad for an underclothing line, he remembered, and the reason why he was convinced was that Pansy had promised a portion of the revenue will be donated to the construction of a new orphanage.
Harry thought he looked like a whore in that magazine!
He fought the urge to slap a hand to cover his face.
Okay, fine. The man knew he had a nice, well-toned body. Years of working in the Auror Department has gifted him with remarkable muscles in his arms and legs. Gone was the boy with bony shoulders and knobbly knees. What has become of him now is an epitome of sex and lust.
Although he doesn't pay attention to it too much.
Harry looked around and saw a few guilty faces. There are even a couple of boys! Merlin's balls. He noticed. Another spark in his hand comes out and around eight more copies of the same magazine flew into his grasps.
"I'd like to see eight students in my office after the class." He snarled. "Get your books. Go to page four. In your own words, determine the possible cause of wizards becoming Dark Lords and state your opinion on how it could have been avoided. I want a three-foot-long essay done for each to be submitted asap!"
The seventh years blinked their eyes in astonishment. Caught off guard, it took them a while before the shuffling of bags and parchment could be heard. They didn't feel it at first but that must've been the worst day of their lives in Hogwarts since the time of Severus. Worse, their punishment didn't end there much to their horror.
"I want everybody to understand the way I teach." Harry walks around. His tone no longer friendly, unlike the first hour when they stepped into his class. "I believe in the principle of locomotive learning that only involves wand usage and mastery of spells. I know some of you wanted to be in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement after you graduate. That should help you a lot before you undergo physical training."
He scans his gaze across the room like a vulture searching for corpses, noticing a few pleading looks from those who are innocent. But he wanted to make it a point to these children that the punishment for one will be a punishment for all.
Why? Life is not fair after all.
"On the other hand, due to circumstances and I should say thanks to some of you who patronizes their professor – so much, I don't think I'm in the mood to teach you the way I want to, right now. Therefore, until your friends will see the error of their ways, your next lessons will involve nothing but lectures and books. Perhaps, in about two days? Two weeks? Two months? Depends…" He smirks.
Several jaws nearly dropped onto the floor.
Two months? That long?
No… no way! It can't be. What will they learn from all these?
The seventh years wanted to protest. They wanted to yell it to the disdainful professor how he's being unfair to them. But judging by his looks – his hand glowing sickening green ready to strike a curse, they wouldn't dare step their toe out of the line.
Their choice. Get themselves transfigured or die.
They'd go for death than speak for themselves. They wouldn't risk it.
True to his word, all the seventh years from four houses suffered the ordeal in the next few days. Unlike the joy and excitement, they heard from the lower years who couldn't stop talking how cool their defense teacher is, they can only lament over it and wait until his temper dissipates.
The culprits were already shunned by their peers three days after the incident. They took most of the blow since they were condemned to be at fault for the punishment all of them have to take.
That was the purpose of it. Harry knows exactly how it feels to be singled out by your friends. He had too much experience of it especially back in his fourth and fifth year. It may be harsh. But one thing they have to learn is that true friends never blame you over uncontrolled emotions. Even if it's something to do with puberty and growth hormones.
The news spread like wildfire throughout the castle. The lower years were terrified that they took it as a serious warning. Nothing can be worse than getting forced to write a three-foot-long essay let alone finishing it in one day! It'll fry your brains to death and the wards wouldn't let you out until you finish it.
It can be horrible than a nightmare!
"Lisa, Michael. What can I do for you, little ones?" Harry shifted in his seat. Two tiny first years, a boy and a girl came waddling in his office. One look can tell they're siblings. In fact, these two are practically twins. The girl, rather shy, steps forward and hands him over a neatly wrapped parcel.
"Mum wants us to give this to you." She says in a soft, almost-whispered mumble.
His brows raised, Harry graciously took the parcel from her hands. The man unwrapped it before their eyes and what he saw melted his heart. It's a box of homemade Chorley Cakes still placed under a warming charm.
"Thank you." He flashed a genuine smile.
"She said she wanted to give them as a 'thank you' gift for helping us get in." It was Michael who said it this time. His eyes darting the floor, fiddling the hem of his robes.
Harry's eyes softened. He could make out their mother's grateful smile and her husband talking to their kids sending them to the train in the Platform. These two came from a family of werewolves. It has already been common knowledge that certain creatures can possess magical abilities powerful enough for them to be sent to Hogwarts. Take his godfather, Remus, for example. Only the bigoted perception among some of those in the Ministry and the Wizengamot that deprives them of their rights to live as normal witches and wizards.
He's been working on a four-year-long battle fighting for their rights, using his powers in both economy and politics to pass as many bills as he can to give them a better life. Most of it was a vow he made in honor of Remus and for the future generation of lycanthropes. For Teddy, his godson and for the others.
The most recent bill that were granted approval was their right to be admitted to any magical school as well as the right to land a stable job after passing their N.E.W.T.s.
Lisa and Michael were among the first batch of children to be sent to Hogwarts. Their father, a graduate of a law school in Wales, was given a decent work in one of the Law firms in Diagon Alley.
"Why don't you join me for a nice cup of tea?" Harry asked them which he took no for an answer after summoning an elf to fetch a teapot and three cups and saucers. Quite hesitant, the twins took their seats in the chairs in front of his desk asking them about their first day in school so far.
- Next Chapter -
The Visit