A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Caleb. Caleb, if you get this far, I would like you to send me an email with the word "starfish" in it.

Chapter 20: Slip Ups

Harry and Minerva found the eight first years milling around the entrance hall. They crowded around Harry and Minerva.

"Professor! What was that?"

"—Are you evil?"

"—Did Professor Dumbledore want the lucky potion?"

"—Is Professor Dumbledore evil?"

"I bet he heard our signal," grinned Fabian.

"So do we get the lucky potion?" asked Gideon.

"Quiet down," said Minerva.

"Why don't we go back to the classroom," said Harry. "I can take it from here, Minerva," said Harry quietly.

"You can take on Albus without a wand—I think you can handle a couple of first years."

"Uh-huh," said Harry, turning around and promptly tripping over a small foot and falling on his face.

"Mr. Prewett! That will be a detention! I have never seen—"

"It's alright, Minerva. I'm awarding a phial of Felix to anyone who can knock me to the ground. Clever of him to attack when I don't have a wand," Harry said, standing up and rounding on Fabian, who smiled sheepishly.

"Reparo!" said Minerva, pointing her wand at Harry's broken glasses. "So is Albus going to get lucky?" she asked, barely keeping the smile from her lips.

"Really, Minerva. I'm teaching right now," said Harry, mocking exasperation. "Let's go. Back to the bat cave, Robin!"

"What?" everyone chorused.

"Nothing, nothing…"

They went back to the classroom and Harry wrapped up the lesson without magic.

"Next class, be prepared to make your sparks under a threat! The people who didn't go today will go first on Wednesday! Have a nice lunch. Fabian, Gideon, would you please wait a moment after class. I'd like to speak with you."

The rest of the class filed out and the red haired twins stayed behind.

"I was extremely impressed with your work today, boys." Even though it led bloody Albus Dumbledore to flip out and attack me,he thought. "I will award each of you a small portion of Felix Felicis potion. I will give it to you next class." I could give it to you now if I had my wand, he thought. "And I was wondering if the two of you would be interested in learning some more advanced magic for extra credit?"

"Wicked," chorused the twins.

"Yes, then? Lovely. I'll have some new material for you next class. Enjoy your lunch."

The twins left grinning ear to ear, and Harry slunk back to his office. There was a piece of parchment on his desk. On it was a note scrawled in familiar loopy handwriting, but it took a moment longer than it should have for Harry to recognize it as Albus's. Harry sat down in his chair and picked it up. "Huh," Harry said aloud, noticing for the first time why Albus's handwriting seemed a little off. It was written in black ink rather than his characteristic green.

"Harry,

Will you please join me in my office for lunch? I will return your wand.

Sincerely,

Albus"

"Right," said Harry out loud, frowning. He looked at his watch and decided to head upstairs. "Phoenix," he said as he reached the stone gargoyles. They leapt aside and Harry rode the stone escalator to Albus's office door and knocked.

"Come in," said Albus from within the office.

Harry entered. Albus was sitting behind his desk with his face resting on his hand. His other hand was gliding across a piece of parchment with an elegant eagle quill. He paused in his inking to gesture Harry over to coffee table, but didn't look up. A few moments passed. The only sound was Albus's quill. Harry was fidgeting nervously in his armchair. He jumped when one of the clocks chimed. Albus looked up at the noise and frowned, like it had interrupted something important. He stood up and trod pensively over to the chair facing Harry and sat down.

"Tea, Harry?" he asked softly.

"Please," said Harry, jumping on the normal conversation.

Albus poured Harry a cup and one for himself. Albus sipped his tea.

"May I have my wand back, sir?"

"Please don't call me sir, Crockett."

"Please don't call me Crockett, you classroom terrorist."

Harry glared over at Albus before spotting his nose and wincing. "Is your nose alright?"

"It's been broken before," said Albus darkly.

"I know but—" Albus looked at him sharply, his eyes narrow. Harry realized he'd mentioned one of those things he wasn't supposed to know about. Like Albus's death. And Albus's sister. And Albus's nose being broken at his sister's funeral. He covered it up quickly. "—But why on earth were you attacking me?"

"It is my duty to ensure the students' safety," replied Albus, not really answering Harry's question.

"You got the twins' distress call, eh?"

Albus nodded. Harry refrained from asking, And why did you take it seriously?

"It was pretty good, wasn't it," said Harry. Albus nodded and they sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment.

"I would like to review your lesson plans before you teach," said Albus abruptly. "I trust you understand."

"Ah, but clearly you don't trust me," said Harry, the weight of his own words crashing down on him.

"I value your talents enough not to say any such thing."

"My talents. You value my talents." Harry found himself disproportionally hurt by the superficiality of the statement. Harry couldn't help but notice what things Albus didn't say he valued Harry for. Like friendship. And a competitive magical equal. And the kindred bond Harry had felt discovering that he and Albus shared so many unexpected passions in common. Maybe Harry'd just glommed onto the person he knew the best from his time and expected the familiarity to be mutual.

He bit his lip. "I will send up the plans with a house elf," said Harry, trying to hide his bitterness. "I would like my wand back, please."

"Ah, yes," said Albus, as if he'd forgotten that he was holding part of Harry's soul hostage. Albus stood up and turned his back to Harry, waved his wand and Harry's wand zoomed out from behind a three foot stack of books. Harry caught it, wondering why he hadn't sensed its presence in the room.

Albus started turning back around. "And now, Harry, would you like some lun—" but Harry was gone. Albus's mouth fell open and he fell into the chair behind him. He frowned and stirred sugar into his tea. After finishing his own tea, he picked up Harry's cup and tipped it from side to side, moving the tea about.

He put the cup down with a sigh and went back behind his desk. He sat down in his high backed chair, and ran his fingers over the piece of parchment he'd left there, tracing the wings of the detailed phoenix he'd drawn.

Harry appeared back in his office and collapsed onto his swivel chair.

Albus didn't trust him.

Harry felt like he'd felt when he lived at the Dursley's. He felt like there was no one for him to go to when he was hurt. Like there was no one for him to confide in who would care about Harry besides how well he did what he was asked. He'd been happy in the fifties knowing that the professors at Hogwarts were good people. He'd comforted himself with the memories of their kindness and loyalty, but had overlooked the possibility that they might see him as someone to protect against.

He picked up his lesson plans and refrained from crumpling them and throwing them against the wall. He duplicated them with his wand and put the originals aside. He composed himself and called "Roopie!"

With a crack, the house elf appeared in front of Harry.

"Hello, Roopie. Would you mind dropping these in Professor Dumbledore's office for me, please?"

"Yes, of course, kind Master Crockett."

"Please call me Harry," he said, and winced as it reminded him of his conversation with Albus.

"As you wish, sir, Master Harry, sir," said Roopie. Harry sighed as the elf took the stack of duplicated papers and disappeared.

Harry heard the door swing open from the other room and looked at his watch. His eyes widened. Lunch was over. He was surprised how sneakily the time had gone. He looked at his schedule briefly and did a double take.

It read Sixth year: 1:00

Seventh year: 1:00

Harry wondered how he'd missed that. He checked his roster and realized that there were only three sixth years, so the classes must have been combined. That suited Harry just fine.

He started the lesson how he started every lesson: invisibly. He snuck into the classroom unnoticed by the advanced students. He crept to the bottom of the stairs and levitated the chalk.

"Welcome, post O.W.L. students, to Defense against the Dark Arts," wrote Harry as he surveyed the classroom. Then he stopped.

"Mr. Alastor Moody, what are you doing in this classroom? You are a fifth year, are you not?"

"Well, sir," said Moody, turning around to look directly at the invisible Harry, "I have a free this block and I really like this subject. I was hoping to sit in?"

"If you can keep up," wrote Harry.

"I think the question will be whether we can keep up with him," grinned a sixth year boy. The seventh year Rufus Scrimgeour shot the sixth year a glare.

Harry kept himself from chuckling.

"Your first challenge will be to find me (Professor Crockett, that is) and make me visible using the spells you know. I won't use magic. Work as a team. Go."

Most of the students were standing and drawing out their wands, but Moody and Scrimgeour had both already lunged in Harry's direction casting spells. Harry had to dive to the side to avoid the jets of light. He regained his balance in time to see Algie Longbottom jumping in his direction. Harry dodged backward to avoid him, but slammed into a solid body. He felt a wand crack over his head and warmth spread over his body, turning him visible with an anti-disillusionment charm.

"Wow, brilliant," said Harry. "That was fast. So, how did you find me?"

"I heard you come in," said Moody, "and go down the stairs, but you didn't move from there until we attacked you."

"Indeed, and then how did you find me?"

Algie pointed at Harry's visible feet, grinning. Harry looked down to see that the souls of his shoes were covered in green paint. He followed a trail of footprints back to where he was originally standing.

"Well done! You used my trick against me. Mr. Moody, I'm impressed that you heard me in the first place. You are very," Harry smiled inwardly, "vigilant."

"I can stay then, sir?"

"I wouldn't dream of kicking you out. I'm afraid you might attack me in my sleep if I upset you," joked Harry.

He pressed on. "I would like to assess each of you individually. It seems we have the whole afternoon for this lesson, so we're going to take a trip to a more accommodating location. Follow me, please."

"Oh goodie, a field trip," said a seventh year girl sarcastically as they crowded out the door. A seventh year boy laughed. Harry turned around to glare at the girl, but found his mouth fall open. She looked exactly like Cho Chang. He closed his mouth quickly.

"You can have your test first, Ms…"

"Aiko Edwards," she said. "I'd be glad to."

"Oooooh," said the boy. "Teacher's pet," he muttered.

"And you can go after her, Mr…"

"Chang. Li Chang."

"Ohh, I get it," said Harry, realizing that these must be Cho Chang's parents.

"Get what?" asked Aiko.

"Oh, nothing," said Harry with a wink. He could almost feel the heat of Aiko's blush from behind him as he turned around to lead the students to the seventh floor. He'd thought ahead, quite literally, and the door to the room of requirement stood waiting for the class. "This will do," he said, pushing the door open and allowing the students to file in front of him.

"Coulda sworn this door wasn't here…" muttered Moody as he passed.

Harry followed them inside and the door swung shut with a solid clunk. The lights rose and the students looked onto the room in appreciation. There was a circular arena sunk into the room in front of them. Through the center of it ran the moon patterns of a dueling rectangle, and around the edges of the arena were benches for spectators.

"Huh. Cool," said Harry. "Ok. Circle around. Take a seat," he said, descending to the center of the pit. The nine students perched themselves on the benches. "I have many tests to administer around the use of specific important spells, but today I will be testing you on how well you can use your magical vocabulary under pressure. I'm testing how well you can react when threatened. Ms. Edwards has volunteered to go first."

"Go Aiko!" cheered Li Chang, a little too enthusiastically. Aiko grinned at him, and then glanced at Harry and blushed. Harry mentally smacked his forehead. I shouldn't have winked.

"Right," said Harry, "I'm going to conjure a nasty opponent, and your job is to kill or get rid of it. Go on down into the pit."

Aiko descended, looking confident.

"Ok, ready?" asked Harry. Aiko nodded. Harry flicked his wand, and out of the end shot a thick green snake, at least eight inches in diameter and fifteen feet long. It reared back, barring its great fangs.

"Don't bite her," muttered Harry.

"Yeah, yeah," replied the snake. It stood with its head six feet off the ground, towering over Aiko, hissing.

"Diffindo!" cried Aiko, trying to sever the serpent's head, but the spell bounced off the thick scales. The snake's tale whipped around and knocked her off her feet. She fell hard, but managed to keep her wand in hand.

"Stupify!" she called from the ground, but the effect was the same. The great snake began to wrap itself around her legs.

"Immobulus!" The spell bounded off and hit Aiko, paralyzing her. The snake continued to wrap around the helpless Aiko.

"That's enough for now, thank you," said Harry to the snake, which sighed, rolled its great slit eyes, and began to uncoil itself from around Aiko.

"Right.—er right," said Harry, unfreezing Aiko with a wave of his wand. "That didn't work, but I'm impressed with the rapidity of your spells. Hmm…Since we have this nice fellow here already," Harry gestured at the snake, "would anyone else like a go? How about you, Mr. Longbottom?"

"Sure thing, sir," said Algie Longbottom, eagerly stepping into the ring.

"Go ahead, then," said Harry, and nodded to the snake. Immediately, it resumed its undulating attack pattern. Algie didn't begin firing spells at the serpent. Instead, he conjured a heavy looking sword. With precision and concentration, he hurled the sword through the air and—Harry was grinning even before it happened—sliced the snake's head clean off.

"How was that, sir?" asked Longbottom, as the head hit the ground with a clunk, followed by the massive body.

"I always did think that was the best way of killing a giant snake," grinned Harry.

"You've killed giant snakes before?"

"Fawkes and I took out a basilisk once with a sword," said Harry, "and a very close friend of mine, Neville, beheaded this rather horrible possessed snake with a sword. The same sword, actually," mused Harry.

"This sword?" asked Tiberius Ogden, awed.

Harry snapped out of his daydream. "Er, no, love, Longbottom just conjured that."

A round-faced girl with flyaway hair who hadn't spoken yet raised her hand tentatively. "Sorry, sir, but what's a basilisk?"

"Pamona, why are you even taking this class?" asked Barty Crouch Sr, scoffing her question.

"Well, I needed to take at least two classes besides herbology so I sort of closed my eyes and pointed…"

"Mr. Crouch," said Harry, making a show of ignoring Sprout, "she is clearly here because she wants to learn, which is probably why she asked the question. Do you know what a basilisk is?"

"It's…it's a snake, obviously," said Crouch.

"And how does it kill most effectively?"

"With…with its teeth, sir."

"Hmm," said Harry. "This goes to show why questions are very helpful, and putting down questions is counterproductive. There will be something each of you aren't going to know. I'm sure I'll even learn new things in this class. I certainly learned something in my first year class this morning…"

The class laughed.

"Oh, you heard about that? Ah, Hogwarts. No secrets."

"Sir, I thought you didn't go to Hog—"

"Can anyone else tell me more about basilisks? Mr. Black?"

"Yeah! They're born from a chicken egg or something and if you see its eyes you die."

Some of the students in the class laughed. "Very good, Mr. Black," said Harry to the laughing students' surprise. "It's born from a chicken egg hatched under a toad. Spiders flee from it. The crow of the rooster is fatal to it," paraphrased Harry. "Its venom is deadly, but more dangerous are its eyes. If you meet its glance directly, it will kill you. If you see it through a mirror or lens or even a ghost, you will be petrified. Can anyone tell me how to cure petrifaction? Yes, Ms. Sprout?"

"Mandrake Restorative Draft, sir. It's stewed from Mandrake root."

"Indeed. I see you're good at herbology." Pomona Sprout blushed as some students next to her nodded vigorously.

"That's about the only thing she's good at," muttered Barty Crouch.

"Mr. Crouch has just volunteered to go next! Into the ring, then," said Harry, irritated. Barty looked like he was going to protest, but instead dropped into the ring, straightening his tie.

"Ready?"

He nodded.

Harry closed his eyes for a minute, imaging what he was about to conjure, reaching back into his memory for when he'd last seen one…and then flicked his wand at the ring.

Thick green vines of Devil's Snare filled the pit on all sides of Barty. They writhed and before Barty could react, they'd already begun to wrap around his ankles.

"Diffindo!" he called, severing a few of the vines, but the Devil's Snare only began to work faster. It had engulfed him up to his waist and began to wrap around his arms. He dropped his wand into the tangling mass leaving him helpless. He cried out in desperation.

Harry sighed.

"Ms. Sprout?"

"I'm on it, professor," she said and hopped into the fray, her wand tip already beginning to glow with light and flame. Within seconds she'd systematically spread flame throughout the writhing plant and it had begun to slacken its grip on Crouch. It shrunk down until all that was left were a few cutlets twitching feebly on the ground. Barty was gasping dramatically for air as Sprout handed him back his wand.

"Professor, can I keep some of these cutlets for study?"

"Hmm," said Harry. "Those are very dangerous. While I am pretty sure that you are currently the best herbologist in the castle I—oh, Merlin, I've just had a fantastic idea. I'll be right back. Can you please explain to the rest of the group about this plant while I'm gone? Don't let it strangle any of you. Great. Thanks."

Harry dove out of the room, leaving the class glancing at each other curiously.

Harry tore down the hall of the seventh floor and whizzed past the gargoyle just slow enough to blurt "phoenix!" as he passed. He ascended the staircase and was soon pounding on Albus's door.

"Albus!" Pound pound pound. "I've found a new—argh!" he said as the door swung open and he fell into the room.

"Yes?"

"I've found a new herbology teacher! Professor Sp—I mean Ms. Sprout is in her seventh year and fully competent. I'm pretty sure she wants to study herbology for the rest of her life - what better way to do it than with a teaching position here with unlimited resources?"

"That's wonder—"

"I know Dippet told Tom Riddle he was too young when he applied the first time when he was right out of school, but he'd psychoticand I thought that because you let Hagrid be game keeper when he was wrongly expelled for opening the Chamber of Secrets in his third year that you wouldn't care if someone was too young."

"Harry I—"

"Well, as long as they were knowledgeable and eager and not trying to force any sort of Greater Good on the world—oh Merlin I did it again. Damnit! Anyway, think about it. I'm in class. Bye." He fell through the wall behind him and sped back to the Room of Requirement.

Albus had to re-live the memory four times in his pensive before he could even figure out what exactly Harry had said, but understanding him only raised more questions. The only question he had a satisfying answer to was "who will teach herbology?"

A/N: I've posted the student roster on my profile page. It's not complete, but it'll give you an idea who's in each grade and how we know them, if you want. I posted Harry's schedule too.