The walk to Dumble- McGonagall's office was much longer than he remembered. The statue in front was still there, but seemed older, sadder, and gleamed less brightly. The entire castle was slightly diminished. Maybe it was actually Harry, and the magic of the castle was less prominent because he was an adult. He had forgotten to ask for the password before leaving, but had a strange feeling that someone hadn't changed it.
"Lemon drop." he said to the phoenix statue, holding his breath. It, in turn, bowed towards him and began to spin upwards with a spiral staircase. How lucky he was that McGonagall had a heart.
When he reached the top, Harry was stunned to find every other teacher crammed inside. Like a child, he felt like he had walked into something he was not supposed to see.
But there she was, his mentor and friend. "Mr. Potter! Glad you could make it!"
He chuckled at the Witch in dark green. Her grey hair was almost white nowadays, and tuffed out in unexpected places. Minerva McGonagall was both beautiful and severe. It would be a wonderful year, he could feel it.
At his name, other teachers turned around. Professor Flitwick alone had a lovely reaction, dropping his wand in surprise. Professor Sprout smiled delicately, and others murmured in surprise. It was clear that not everyone had been informed of Harry's Position.
"Yes, your attention back up here. Mr. Potter is going to fill the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. Now, hold on." She tried to continue, not having the dissent. "Listen to me. We are all aware that Mr. Potter did not finish his Seventh Year, because he was aiding our country and our way of life in a much more significant way. His experience alone is enough to earn a position. He himself brought up his lack of credentials, and they dismissed him immediately. This is not a democracy, and it is not a question. I've brought you all together so that Mr. Potter has a foundation on which he can ask questions. Is there any teacher that wishes to be his mentor?"
"I WILL."
Harry spun at Hagrid's booming voice, incredibly warmed at the reaction. All the other teachers, save McGonagall, recoiled. She smiled ever so slightly, and then looked back at the rest of the staff. "Any others?"
"I will, also."
Firenze appeared from the very back of the small crowd, his voice soft but caked in sadness. He bowed low to Harry, who bowed in earnest return. McGonagall turned back to the teachers, a few of whom raised their hands. They were all willing to help him if need be with lesson planning and discipline.
"Thank you, everyone. Now… Before we go down to the sorting, there are a few things I would like to discuss. This last year has been detrimental to so many families. The Hogwart's name, although not tarnished, has diminished in quality. Voldemort has taken some of the love and warmth out of this place. I need each and every one of you to keep hope alive. There are students here who have lost family. Some have come from dark wizarding families and are looking for redemption. We have students that are repeating years, so they don't miss out on precious education. Discrimination will end in termination. Unfair discipline will end in termination. This school has been through some horrific times and terrible years. Today, we bring it back."
All eyes were on the headmistress, amazed at her simultaneous severity and kindness. Harry imagined she would have made a very good grandmother.
"Now, I welcome you to a new year alongside a few new teachers. New teachers, please step this way. Yes." She adjusted the five new teachers side by side. A sharp looking gentleman in a simple black cloak stepped forward first. "This is Marcus Bentley, our new Muggle Studies professor. Please treat him well."
He looked very nice, but maybe a little too dangerous around the eyes. Harry smiled at him just the same, and was rewarded with a small smile back.
"Arista Prat, Ancient Runes."
The woman was statuesque and rather beautiful with high cheekbones and long, dark hair. She oozed intrigue, and every single male in the room became hot under the collar almost immediately. At Harry's side, Minerva whispered, "That'll make them take Runes."
Harry had to inhale his giggle.
The next teacher was John Mercer (Taking over for professor Binns in Wizarding History), whose beard and halloween sweater made everyone a little uncomfortable. The ginger in his hair almost resembled a Weasley, and unlike the others, he made a speech. "Hey! You all can just call me Mercer. I'm pretty chill." He said, in a grating American accent. "I came over here from the states in april when you all were having your little Voldemort issue. Super excited to work here, but, um… your ghosts really freak me out. Are they here all the time?"
Minerva, who had clearly spent an extended amount of time with the yank, rubbed her eyes. "Mr. Mercer, they are the Hogwart's Ghosts. Get used to them or get out."
He chuckled and threw his hands into the front of his sweater, where a giant pocket lay.
"Next, we have Eris Kriptke." McGonagall motioned a sweet-looking teacher with brown hair and a very sensible dark green cloak. Her pale skin was luminous and dewy, like a doe. She smiled and curtsied a little. "Eris is going to be a floor guard. I will consider her a teacher, the same way I treat Filch." Saying his name, everyone looked around for the dependable Grinch. He didn't appear. "Maybe better than I treat Filch then."
Everyone laughed a little.
The last person on the list was Harry, who had already been introduced. McGonagall smiled at her small staff and said, in the bravest way she could, "I hope we have a lovely year."
The crowd dispersed on the way to Dumbledor- McGonagall's elevator. Harry moved to leave but McGonagall grabbed his arm. "Mr. Potter, would you stay?"
Considering there wasn't much time before the sorting and the students had been without chaperones for the last ten minutes, Harry was at a loss for what she could want. He agreed of course, and moved back towards Dumbl- her desk with concern. "What is it, Professor?"
"It's Minerva now. I'm sure you're nervous, and confused why I brought you on."
"You brought me on?" he asked. "I thought it was a school board decision."
She smiled. "Oh, it was. But I recomended you, at least for this year. I know your plans have always been to follow in the footsteps of James and become an auror."
"Yes, of course."
"I want that for you, Harry. But I also believe there is some protection within these walls that will end up being useful later. Have you told Weasley or Granger?"
"About this? No. But Mrs. Weasley knows."
"That's fine. Are you keeping it from Granger and Weasley because they won't understand the deviation from your original plan?"
Right on the money. "Yes."
"Well, take my advice and tell them. They're more than welcome to stay at the castle whenever they feel like, but I know that this is a hard place to return to."
He didn't intend to say anything. He honestly was not going to breathe a word, but at the last moment…
"Hermione is depressed, and Ron is trying to help the rest of his family cope with Fred's… passing. They can't leave right now. I was actually excited to come because the Burrow is a hard place to be."
"I can imagine." she said with little surprise. "Arthur Weasley filled out the form for Muggle Studies professor."
It was both shocking and understandable. "We all get over grief differently."
"Indeed. Also, unrelated note… Draco Malfoy is here as a seventh year."
There was the moment.
Harry's whole body became rigid with angst, confusion, and a little rage. Malfoy?
"But… Malfoy took his seventh year."
"Mr. Malfoy was employed by the Carrows as, pardon my appalling language, a 'Fuck-Boy'."
The tension from the day, the sadness of leaving his friends and the long, LONG train ride all culminated in one hilarious moment. Harry Potter burst out laughing.
"PROFESSOR, YOU CAN'T SAY FUCK-BOY."
"I shouldn't, but I can. He was under the Carrow's wing, and couldn't leave the position without risking his safety and the safety of the younger students he protected on a daily basis. Although you may have had some definite misgivings in the past, Draco Malfoy saved many lives last year and deserves a second chance. That being said, please be the bigger man and do not jeopardize your job for revenge. Are we understood?"
"Definitely."
"Good. You're young, Harry, but you've fought for much more than seven billion others in such a small lifespan. Make James proud."
The severe sweetness got to him. Before leaving, he rushed up and pecked the woman on her cheek. She patted his face darkly. "Alright, but no more affection. Go on, see the sorting."
Harry didn't need to be told twice.
Rushing down the steps, through two corridors to the great hall, Harry saw a tiny parade of first years lining up near the podium in alphabetical order. Alois, the only white-blond, stood near the very middle. He had to have a last name, then.
"Anderson, Eliza!" Called Flitwick from the teacher's table. A tiny blonde girl with a little clip on bow ran full speed to the sorting hat. One full second later, it pronounced her "RAVENCLAW!", much to her dismay.
The process was much faster than in past years, simply from fewer students. Alois looked nervous as the sorting cap touched "King, Miriam" (Gryffindor), and then…
"Lestrange, Alois!"
Harry couldn't believe it.
He hadn't yet moved up to his place in the Great Hall, and now he never wanted to. Alois's white hair. His voice. Of course he was related to Malfoy. But related to Bellatrix? Even worse!
"We're not related. Not by blood, anyways."
Harry spun around, to see Malfoy leaning against the door in a suit. His appearance hit a chord within Harry that was almost sexual. The pervasive nature of their hateful relationship fell down for one second as Alois sat under the sorting hat. They both watched as the boy sat under the hat for more than 10 seconds, fear in his clenched eyes. Finally, after an eternity the hat screamed, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Malfoy scoffed lightly. "Told you. Not related."
Malfoy turned to leave, but not before Harry grabbed his arm. "Wait!"
"Sod off, Potter."
"It's Professor, now."
That made Malfoy stop. He turned slowly, as not to wake the beast. "Professor?"
"Of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
The title felt nice in Harry's throat and he could already tell it would be quite an issue eventually.
"Well then, congratulations, Professor. I hope you last longer than all the others."
He moved to shake Harry's hand, and the way his jacket shuddered dusted a little of his scent onto Harry. Both paused, Harry because of the attractive way his enemy smelled and Malfoy because his hand was extended. Harry eventually got the notice but only shook once. "Thank you, but it's only a year long position."
"I don't care."
"I know."
They parted ways almost immediately, Harry heading towards the feast and Malfoy wherever. As a teacher he should have been curious, but he had followed Malfoy enough over the years
He rushed into his seat just as the introductions of staff were beginning. His name was last on the roster and had the biggest reaction. Harry Potter? An 18 year old? He couldn't be a teacher! Even Tom Riddle had tried to get a position in Hogwarts at twenty and was passed over because of his age. And because he had slaughtered his family members and split his soul apart multiple times. But the youth portion was most important.
"Mr. Potter will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. We are well aware of his age, and we understand some of you once befriended him. As he is now on staff, there is a level of discretion that must be taken on. Additionally, he is the head of house for Gryffindor. I think you'll find him equally engaging and authoritative." She smiled at Harry and then the rest of the students. "Before we eat, I'd like to discuss a few rules. Number one: The forbidden forest is FORBIDDEN to first, second and third years. Fourth years and up may only use it with a teacher present. The excuses of "my pet is in there", "I lost an item of value and was looking for it", and "I saw a unicorn", however valid the claim, are not enough to avoid consequences. If for some reason you require access and you are older than fourth year, you may ask Hagrid to retrieve your item respectively. If you are below fourth year, come to myself or another teacher. These are non negotiables and will be handled severely.
"Lastly, Draco Malfoy is interning as my replacement for Transfigurations, which I still teach. Because of this transitional period, transfigurations is no longer required past OWLs, unless your action path for NEWTs begets it. Please understand that if you are taking Transfigurations in NEWT levels, the information will be mostly self taught with little lesson planning. Thank you all for your cooperation and your patience. Let's eat!"
With a clap, all the food rose beautifully onto the tables. It was an even more gorgeous sight from above. In addition to being less cramped, the teacher's table had firewhiskey and mead. Harry opted for pumpkin juice instead. He listened to the laughter and peace of his colleagues and friends, amazed at how much had resumed despite the last few months of death. The food was delicious, and the sky was divine.
But like all things, the good had to come to an end.
