Chapter Two: The Meeting with McGonagall

Harry woke up early the next day, got dressed, and tried to smooth out his hair so that it wasn't sticking up in quite so many places. Finally giving up on trying to tame the mess of hair on his head, he went outside. Grabbing his Firebolt, a replacement he bought a month ago after losing the one Sirius had given him when he and Hagrid were attacked the night he left the Dursley's for good, he took off for a ride to calm his nerves. Thirty minutes later, he saw Ron emerge from the house and shout at him.

"Oi, Harry! It's almost time for you to see McGonagall!"

After landing, Harry put his Firebolt back in the shed, and went inside. The others were already seated at the table, getting ready to eat breakfast. Hermione had brought down Harry's rucksack that he had left in her room the day before, and had put it in the chair next to hers. Harry walked over and picked up the rucksack, thanking Hermione for remembering it. Hermione smiled and wished Harry good luck while holding on to his hand, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Harry or Ginny. With a twinge of jealously in her heart, Ginny got up from her chair and went over to where Harry was standing.

"Good luck, Harry. I'm sure everything will be fine," Ginny said to her boyfriend, before giving him a long kiss, that made Hermione look away, slightly blushing.

"Achem," Mrs. Weasley coughed.

Harry and Ginny broke apart, both of their faces as red as the strawberry jam on Ron's toast.

"Right then. Harry dear, its two minutes until 9, best be going. You know how Professor McGonagall is about being on time," Mrs. Weasley said.

Harry nodded and headed over to the fireplace. Stepping inside, he grabbed a handful of Floo powder, threw it down and shouted, "McGonagall's Office."

With a brilliant flash of green light, Harry remembered to pull his elbows in and was suddenly glad he had not eaten breakfast yet as he was spun and pushed and pulled. In an instant, he stumbled out of the fireplace in what was once Albus Dumbledore's office. When the room finally stopped spinning, Harry looked around and was hit, once again, with waves of grief. It was obvious that McGonagall had moved some things around, added some new books, but the familiar desk was still there, as well as the pensive. Fawkes was also there, sitting on his perch, looking as beautiful and magnificent as ever. Professor McGonagall, however, was no where to be seen.

Harry pulled out the gold pocketwatch that Mrs. Weasley had given him on his 17th birthday but before he could open it, the door to the office was opened and Professor McGonagall walked in.

"Mr. Potter, glad to see you managed to be on time. Perhaps, we can make that a habit when classes being," McGonagall said with a shadow of a smile.

"I'll try, Professor," Harry replied, as his stomach suddenly growled. "Oh, sorry Professor," Harry said, grabbing his stomach as though holding it would mute the grumbles from within.

"Oh dear, I forgot I told you breakfast would be provided. Hold on, Potter," said McGonagall as she called for one of the Hogwarts house-elves. A particularly large, wrinkly house-elf immediately appeared in the room with a small crack. "Please bring some breakfast for Mr. Potter away." The house-elf bowed low and disappeared with another small crack. Turning to a table in the corner that was stacked high with books on Transfiguration, McGonagall waved her wand and the books immediately jumped to the floor and the table shot to the middle of the room, with the two chairs following. "Have a seat, Potter," McGonagall said, motioning to the chair closest to him.

Harry put his rucksack on the floor and sat down. McGonagall took the seat opposite him. Before he could ask her why she asked to meet with him, food suddenly appeared on the table, similar to meals in the Great Hall.

"We'll get down to business in a moment. Please, eat," McGonagall said, reaching forward and grabbing a piece of toast.

Harry hesitated a moment, then, filled his plate with toast, eggs, and bacon. While he ate, McGonagall made some small talk, asking how things were at the Burrow, if Hermione's parents had been found, and so on. Harry answered as best he could between bites. He wanted to finish eating as quickly as possible, so McGonagall could tell him what this meeting was about but he didn't want to appear to be rushing. McGonagall, however, could tell Harry was anxious and decided to ease his fears.

"Harry," she said, shocking Harry, who had never heard her say his first name, at least not without saying his last as well, "I promise, you have nothing to worry about, my hope is that this meeting with be a good one, for you and the school."

Still unsure of what exactly this meeting was going to be about, but feeling the knots in his stomach begin to untighten, Harry slowed down his eating and enjoyed the rest of his breakfast. After finishing his last bit of toast, Harry pushed his plate forward and thanked Professor McGonagall for the meal. With a small nod, and what appeared to be a twitch of a smile at the corner of her mouth, McGonagall gave her wand a small flick and the table was cleared. Harry, taking this as a cue that the real meeting was about to begin, picked up his rucksack and began to place the books he had brought on the table. McGonagall reached forward and began looking at the books one by one, nodding her head, and muttering to herself softly. After she had looked at every book, she looked up at Harry, who had been watching her closely.

"I know my letter must have come as a bit of a surprise," McGonagall began. "And based on how quickly you were trying to eat your food, I am guessing you were assuming the worst. Though I must say, I can't blame you, considering the books I asked you to bring."

"You see, Harry," Harry was again shocked to hear her say his first name, "as Headmistress I am not in charge of hiring faculty for the upcoming school year, which, as you can guess, is not an easy task in wake of everything that has happened. Though the school has been fully repaired and all of the protective enchantments are back up and working properly, it is difficult to find teachers who are willing to come and fill our openings. Luckily, Professor Slughorn has agreed to stay on for another year as Potions Master and the head of Slytherian House. However, we are still lacking a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. That is where you come in."

Harry, more confused than ever, asked, "Professor, I'm afraid I don't understand. What does not having a teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts have to do with me?"

"Well, as you know, we're asking having all students repeat their previous year, for obvious reasons. So we're about to have a very large first year class, the largest ever, and our other years will be around their normal size, since all of the muggle-borns and others who went into hiding will, we hope anyway, be back," McGonagall said, though Harry was still not sure what any of this had to do with him. "I reached out to Kingsley about possibly having an Auror teach here, if just for a year, but there are still Death Eaters at large, not to mention a lot of work that must be done both here in the wizarding world and in the muggle world. So Kingsley, regretfully, could not oblige my request."

Harry's thoughts drifted to Lupin. If he and Tonks had not died, they would have made excellent Defense Against the Dark Art instructors. His heart felt weighed down once again, as he thought about Tonks, Lupin and Teddy, Harry's godchild, who was currently living with Tonk's parents. Harry wondered if he would ever be able to remember his lost friends without feeling so much pain and sorrow.

"Potter? Potter! Are you listening to anything I am saying?" said McGonagall sternly.

"What? Sorry Professor. Please, continue." Harry said, apologetically.

"As I was saying, I am afraid that I may not be able to find someone to teach before the school year begins, at least not someone who is knowledgeable in the subject or has any experience. So…" McGonagall paused a moment and tried to find the right words to say.

"Harry, would you be interested in teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?" McGonagall finally said.

Harry stared at her in disbelief. She wanted him to teach a class? THAT class? His mind was racing, trying to decide what to say. McGonagall sat patiently, letting Harry collect his thoughts. She wished she did not have to ask this of Harry, but there was no one else. She was going to have to teach Transfiguration, as well as complete the duties of Headmistress. McGonagall also knew that there was no one as qualified as Harry. The number of students who managed to get either an Exceeds Expectations or Outstanding on their OWL in Defense Against the Dark Arts during Harry's 5th year was the highest Hogwarts had seen in years and it was almost as high during Harry's 6th year. It did not surprise anyone that every student during those two years who had been a member of Dumbledore's Army achieved Exceeds Expectations or Outstanding on that OWL. Harry had proven himself to be a great teacher, as well as a skilled duelist and honorable leader, in his time at Hogwarts. McGonagall knew that no one more than Harry deserved at one year to just be a normal student but, just because Voldemort was dead did not mean there were not still evil witches and wizards in the world. As Kingsley had reminded McGonagall, there were still Death Eater's at large who would like nothing more than to be the one to kill Harry Potter or anyone associated with him.

"Professor," Harry said slowly, "how can I be a student and a teacher?"

McGonagall allowed herself a rare smile, "You will only be taking the classes you need to qualify as an Auror and, after speaking with Kingsley, you will be exempt from some classes based on your level of experience in the real world. I will also provide you with a time-turner, should you need it, to help have time to do your studies and lesson planning. Also, you will have some help teaching the 1st , 2nd, and 3rd year classes."

"What kind of help?" Harry asked.

"If you agree to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, I was going to ask Miss Granger if she would be willing to help you teach the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd years, as well as help you with lesson plans for the 4th, 5th, 6th, and 7th years, though you will be the only one teaching those years."

Harry sat, thinking. Professor Potter. It did have a nice ring to it but teaching and taking classes? Not to mention the fact that Harry wanted to get back into Quidditch and help Griffindor win the Quiddich Cup. Then again, with the time-turner, it might be possible to do all three. As Harry continued thinking, Professor McGonagall got up quietly and walked over to her desk to pick up a piece of parchment, a quill, and a bottle of ink. She sat back down and began to write something on the parchment. When she finished, she folded it and pushed it towards Harry.

"I can see you are taking your time making a decision," she said softly, "which is good and shows a sign of great maturity. I also know you're going to want to discuss this with Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley." Nodding to the parchment in front of Harry, she said, "This is everything you will receive as a teacher at Hogwarts – salary, office, etc. Take it with you, as well as your books, and think about it. Plan on coming back here at this time next week, with Miss Granger, and you both can tell me your decisions."

Harry nodded, grabbed the folded bit of parchment and put it and the books back in his bag. Glancing back at McGonagall, he asked, "Professor, why did you have me bring all of my Defense Against the Dark Arts books?"

"I wanted to see what resources you and Miss Granger had at your disposal," she replied, as she put the table back into the corner and placed the books back on it.

Harry put on his rucksack and headed over to the fireplace. Stepping inside, he took another look around the office, this time, his heart did not feel with grief but a sense that maybe, just maybe, things might turn out okay this year. McGonagall bid Harry farewell and held out the bowl full of Floo powder for him. Grasping a handful, he thanked her again for breakfast and told her he will give her offer some serious thought. Then, he threw it down and said, "The Burrow."