Chapter Six: The First Day
The sun was barely making its way through the windows of the Gryffindor boy's dormitory when Harry opened his eyes. Despite waking up a good deal earlier than he intended, Harry felt well rested. After meeting with McGonagall last night, his anxiety about his first day as a Hogwarts professor was greatly reduced, though the butterflies in his stomach were still making themselves known. Getting out of bed as quietly as he could, Harry got dressed, put his books, parchment, quill, and ink in his rucksack, and slipped down to the Common Room. It was still a few hours before breakfast and his first class was scheduled to begin at 9am. Deciding he wanted a chance to walk around the castle before the rest of Hogwarts awoke, Harry shouldered his rucksack and pushed the Fat Lady's portrait open as gently as possible. The Fat Lady made some soft unintelligible sounds, but stayed asleep. Breathing a small sigh of relief, he headed down the stairs.
Harry knew that if he was going to make it through this year, he was going to have to confront the memories that haunted him, straight on. After all, what are a few bad memories compared to the hell he, Hermione, and Ron went through last year. When Harry reached the corridor that led to the Great Hall, he stopped and pulled the Marauder's Map out from beneath his robes.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Harry said, touching the parchment with his wand.
Immediately, the familiar map of Hogwarts appeared. It appeared that nearly everyone was still in bed, except McGonagall, who was in her office, and Hermione who was in the Gryffindor Common Room. They had just missed each other. Harry thought she must be looking over their lessons plans for the day's classes for the twentieth time since they arrived at Hogwarts. Harry remembered when he and Hermione had shown McGonagall their lesson plans the night before. McGonagall had stared at them with an expression of disbelief and admiration.
"I must say," she had told them, "I expected you, with Miss Granger's help, to have the first few weeks planned but," holding up the thick folder they had brought her, "I never expected you two to have the entire semester planned… And in this much detail!"
"Are they okay, then?" Hermione asked, insecurely.
"Miss Granger, these are some of the finest lesson plans I have seen in my time at Hogwarts. It is obvious that you and Mr. Potter were very thorough in your preparations and I have no doubt you both will do well," McGonagall told her, the corner of her mouth showing the slightest hint of a smile.
Scanning the map once more to make sure no one was in or near the Great Hall, Harry walked slowly forward and placed his hand on the smooth wood. He, with a bit of reluctance, closed his eyes and let the memories envelop him.
Dust and dirt billowed like a thick cloud of smoke. Flashes of red and green whizzed through the air as Death Eaters and the soldiers of Hogwarts dueled to the death. The door to the Great Hall was gone, probably blasted apart by a spell or perhaps a boulder thrown by one of the giants. Bits of splintered wood was scattered across the floor, some red with blood.
Harry opened his eyes and grasping the cast iron handles, pulled open the doors to the Great Hall. The four long rows of tables sat in their normal positions. Empty. Silent. The hall was dark, except for the rays of the early morning sun peeking through the towering windows. Harry grasped his wand tightly, as though he expected at any moment a Death Eater, or worse, Voldemort, to appear. Step by step, Harry headed straight for the center of the room. He imagined the first years who stepped into this hall last night must have held their mouths open in awe, as he once had, at the beauty, strength, and magic of this great room. At that moment, however, Harry saw a different room.
The windows were broken. The moon, waning in the night sky, was still visible, but barely. You could not walk anywhere without stepping on shards of glass, bits of stone, or splinters of wood. Tables and benches were overturned, blasted, or used as pitiful shields. It was crowded. You not only had to dodge the spells that were being cast at you but the ones being cast at others. Noise. Shouts of fear, names of spells, the bodies hitting the walls or the floor. "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Bellatrix Lestrange dead by Mrs. Weasley's well-aimed curse. Voldemort's scream. Before Voldemort could avenge Bellatrix's death, he cast the Shield Charm and threw off his invisibility cloak. Cheers and then complete silence. This was it, the end. If he was wrong about who was the true master of the Elder Wand, Harry was going to be seeing Dumbledore sooner than he wanted. It all came down to two spells.
Opening his eyes once again, Harry took in a deep breath and relaxed his grip on his wand. It was over. Voldemort was gone. There was no chance he could ever return. His body had been incinerated and, with the horocruxes destroyed, his soul was gone as well.
Harry sat down on one of the benches and gazed around the room. He was amazed at the repairs that were done to the castle in such a short period of time, considering the state it was in at the end of the battle. At least now he knew that he would be able to eat in here again, as his stomach began to rumble, and the fear and anxiety that had gripped him so tightly before was nearly gone. Harry looked at his watch. Breakfast wouldn't be served for another hour and Harry didn't feel like answering questions as to why he was sitting in the Great Hall alone.
"I haven't seen my office yet," Harry thought to himself. "Guess now is a good a time as any to check it out."
Harry left the Great Hall and closed the doors as quietly as he could. He walked up a short flight of stairs to the first floor and then another to the second, where his office was located. Standing in front of the door, Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the key McGonagall had given him. Placing it into the keyhole, he turned it counterclockwise. With a sharp click, the lock moved and Harry pushed the door open. The room was bare, except for two rather large desks with tall-backed chairs, a small side table, and a three waiting-room style chairs. One of the desks was on the wall opposite of Harry, the other to his right, with the side table in the corner between them. The other chairs were haphazardly in the corner to left, closest to the door.
"Better claim one of these desks before Hermione gets here," Harry thought, already picturing the look on Hermione's face and her protests of how they should have decided together who got which desk.
He decided the one directly opposite the door was best. After all, he would be spending more time here than Hermione and he felt better having a clear look at the door. Carelessly tossing his rucksack onto the desk, he sat down in the desk chair. It was sturdy, made of a dark-brown maple. The back, seat, and arms were covered with scarlet leather that had gold buttons along the edges. Harry had no idea what it was padded with but it was the most comfortable chair he had ever sat in. Leaning forward, he pulled his rucksack towards him and began removing the books he had stuffed into it earlier that morning.
Defense Against the Dark Arts
Defensive Magical Theory
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
The Updated Counter-Curse Handbook
Basic Hexes for the Busy and Vexed
A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions
Jinxes for the Jinxed
Practice Defensive Magic and Its Use Against the Dark Arts
Curses and Counter-Courses
Confronting the Faceless
Self-Defensive Spellwork
Harry stood up and started placing the books on the shelves that lined the wall behind him. Hermione would have more to add to the shelves later from her own collection, not to mention the other dozen or so she bought from Flourish and Blotts. Although Harry and Hermione had only had one required text for each year, they felt it was to best to have as many resources at their disposal as possible. When the last book was on the shelf, Harry sat down again and looked over his weekly schedule.
On Monday's he and Hermione would be teaching one group of first years and then Hermione would teach the next group while Harry went to Potions. After lunch, Harry had a Double Defense Against the Dark Arts with the 5th years, then dinner, and Quidditch practice. Tuesday's included a Double with the 2nd years, Double Charms, and Transfiguration after dinner in McGonagall's Office. Wednesday's were Harry's easiest day. He was free all morning, though McGonagall had warned him that he should be using that time for homework, grading papers, or preparing for class. He had a Double with the 3rd years in the afternoon and then Quidditch practice in the evening. On Thursday, Harry had a Double in the morning with the 6th years and a Double in the afternoon with the 4th. His evening, much to Ginny's delight, was free. Well, free in the sense Ginny claimed it as "their night." Finally, on Friday he had the 1st years again, Potions, a Double with the 7th years, and Quidditch practice after dinner.
Just looking at the schedule made Harry feel exhausted. He knew his weekends would be filled with homework, Ginny, Quidditch, tweaking lesson plans with Hermione, and the occasional trip to Hogsmeade. Out in the corridors, Harry could hear students walking towards the Great Hall. He put his schedule back in his pocket, walked into the corridor, locked his office, and followed a group of Ravenclaws down the stairs. Breakfast must have just started being served since most of tables were sparsely populated. Harry walked to the Gryffindor table, which at the moment was only occupied by a few overly-eager first year students, some 5th years, and Hermione, who was reading that morning's Daily Prophet.
"Harry!" Hermione called to him, waving the paper to get his attention. "Over here!"
"Morning, Hermione," Harry said cheerfully, sliding onto the bench opposite her, and filling his plate with eggs, toast, and bacon. "Ready to teach your first class," he teased.
"Oh shut it, Harry," Hermione laughed, hitting him on the arm with the paper. "You know I'm nervous!"
Harry smiled and took a bite of toast. He knew Hermione would be a brilliant teacher, though he could sympathize with her nerves, and he was glad they were teaching the first class together. As he ate and Hermione read, Ron and Ginny appeared, sitting down next to their respective boyfriend and girlfriend.
"Morning, Ron," Hermione said, giving Ron a kiss on the cheek.
"Morin'," Ron grumbled, still half-asleep.
"Ready for your first day, Professor Potter?" Ginny said playfully.
"I think so, Captain Weasley."
After accepting McGonagall's offer, Harry and Ron agreed that Ginny should take over as captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Harry was actually a bit relieved to have that responsibility taken from him. He was ready to step aside from the leadership roles everyone always placed upon him and be a normal student. Well, as normal a student as one can be when they are also a teacher and Harry Potter.
"Blimey, I didn't realize there were so few Slytherians this year," exclaimed Ron, who was a starting to wake up and with his mouth stuffed with food.
Turning around, Harry glanced over at the Slytherian table. It was maybe a fourth full, mostly with younger students who appeared much friendly than the Slytherians Harry had seen come through that house over the years. Checking around the Great Hall, Harry asked, "Are there any 6th or 7th years?"
"I recognize a couple of 6th years," Ginny said.
"I don't see a single 7th year," Hermione observed.
"Not that surprising though, right? I mean most of them were from Death Eater families. They'd have to be insane to try and come back to Hogwarts after last year," Ron commented.
"I wonder whatever happened to the Malfoys," Hermione said, remembering them huddled together in the corner of the Great Hall after the battle.
"Mum told me they sent Draco's dad to Azkaban. Supposedly, he and Narcissa moved out the country," Ginny answered.
"Good riddance, I say. I'd love my final year to be free of Malfoy's smug face," Ron said while shoveling eggs into his mouth.
"Good grief, Ron, chew your food!" Hermione admonished, with a look disgust on her face. "Harry, we should probably head out, don't you think?"
Glancing at his watch, Harry nodded. Giving Ginny a quick kiss and a hug, he got up from the table and walked with Hermione towards their classroom on the first floor. Harry wondered if McGonagall said something during the Feast yesterday about how they should treat him. Many of the students who had gathered around his compartment on the train, desperate for a glimpse of the famous Harry Potter, now settled for simply staring from a distance and whispering excitedly to their friends. Harry and Hermione had agreed that they would not answer any questions regarding their travels last year or Harry's duel with Voldemort except with the 7th years. Harry knew many who would be in the class were thinking of becoming Aurors or Hit Wizards, the equivalent of a Muggle S.W.A.T team, and it would benefit in them in the long run to know some of the details.
Harry and Hermione walked into the classroom and went to the front. Hermione pulled the movable chalkboard to the front and used her wand to set the chalk in motion.
Defense Against the Dark Arts – Year One
Professor Potter and Professor Granger
Required Text: Defensive Magical Theory
Assignment Due Fri: 500-word essay on "The Importance of Defensive Magic Today"
Harry had been the one to suggest assigning the essay, much to Hermione's surprise. He knew that the students, especially the younger ones, inevitably would question why they need to learn any sort of defensive spells with Voldemort dead. At the very least, if what he said didn't sink in, maybe writing it down will force it into their memory.
Just then, the bell rang, and Gryffindor and Slytherian students started filing into the room. Harry and Hermione gave each other a knowing look. They both thought back fondly to their first year at Hogwarts and the excitement, mixed with mild anxiety of that first class. When all of the sits were filled, Harry stepped forward and awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Um, good morning. I'm Professor Potter and this is Professor Granger and this," Harry said, "is Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Now, before we go on, is there anyone who does not have the required text?" Hermione asked loudly.
Not seeing any hands raised, Harry said, "Alright then, please turn to page 10 and we'll begin."
Through the rustle of books being pulled from bags and pages being turned, a hand shot up from the back of the class. It was a dark haired, freckled faced boy with black square framed glasses, a rather large nose, and small blue eyes.
"Professor Potter, why do we need to have a Defense Against the Dark Arts class if You-Know-Who is dead?" the boy inquired.
Harry gave an exasperated sigh and ran his hands through his hair, trying to hold in his irritation. Hermione, sensing Harry's frustration, took the lead.
"What is your name?" she asked.
"Earc Maclean, Professor," he said in a thick Scottish accent.
"Stand up, please, Mr. Maclean."
"Why?" he asked, crossing his arms, suspicious of these so-called professors who were also students.
Hermione raised one eyebrow and pursed her lips.
"Because I told you to, Mr. Maclean. Question me again and I'll deduct points from your house. Now stand up," she barked.
Earc stood up, ears bright red with embarrassment, as the class broke out in giggles. Harry leaned back against the desk at the front of the classroom and watched with an amused but curious look on his face. He wondered what Hermione was going to do now.
"You want to know why we need this class, Mr. Maclean?" she said, not bothering to hide her annoyance. "Why we would need to know defensive magic, despite Voldemort being dead?"
She walked towards him, wand raised. Earc took a step back, terror etched across his face. Harry stood up, concerned that Hermione was going to far.
"I'm s-s-sorry, Professor! Please, don't curse me!" Earc sputtered, tears forming in his eyes, as his classmates gasped and Harry reached for his wand, prepared to intervene.
Hermione's expression softened and she lowered her wand. In a low voice, she said to the entire class, "Voldemort may be dead, but evil still exists in the world. It never rests. It never stops. There will be other wizards who will dabble in the Dark Arts and succumb to its power. They may not be as powerful as Voldemort was, but they can still do a lot of harm to you, your family, your friends, and others. Voldemort was not the first and he most certainly will not be the last. That is how evil works. Just because one threat has died, does not mean that another one isn't rising."
Harry, relieved Hermione wasn't going to curse the poor boy, looking straight at Earc and said, "One of the greatest Aurors I have ever known always preached to us, 'Constant Vigilance.' What do you think that means, Mr. Maclean?"
Earc, his ears still bright red, thought for a moment and then said, "I guess it means that we have to always be alert because you never know what may come your way."
Hermione looked back at Harry, smiled, and then turning to Earc said, "Well spoken, Mr. Maclean. 5 points to Gryffindor. You may take your seat."
After that, the rest of the class went fairly smoothly. Harry was surprised at how attentive and respectful the Slytherian students were for the hour. Perhaps they would be the class that would redeem the Slytherian house from its reputation of disrespect, insolence, arrogance, and knack for producing dark witches and wizards. By the end of class, the first years seemed excited to begin working on their essays, even Earc Maclean whose ears had finally returned to their normal color.
The rest of the day passed fairly quickly. Hermione's class of first years went by without any major incident and she was pleased to overhear some of the first years at lunch telling the second years how great Professor Granger was. Harry's potions class went surprisingly well, considering he was using the same, non-marked textbook as everyone else. Professor Slughorn was a bit awkward around Harry, clumsily slapping him on the back and making loud proclamations about how glad he was to see one of his favorite students. Harry spent most of his class period with the 5th years explaining about the O.W.L. and what to expect.
By dinner, Harry was exhausted but happy. He sat with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny and filled them in on how his class had gone. When he had eaten, he decided to go up to his dormitory and take a quick nap. Telling Ginny and Ron he would see them on the Quidditch pitch later for practice, Harry left the Great Hall and went upstairs. Crawling into his four poster bed, he laid down and drifted off to sleep, happy that his first day was over.
