Chapter IV

Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Harry couldn't manage to muster up any sleep the night before his first day of class. His mind raced at an almost unfeasible speed, as if it were on a track doing circles. He sat in bed, staring out the window for a good majority of the night.

He got dressed in his uniform for the day, wearing all black dress robes that Ginny had bought for him before he left. It was an all-black robe, similar to the robes they wore at Hogwarts during their schooling, with a white buttoned down shirt, black pants and a red tie.

Actually feeling hungry, Harry left to go down to the Great Hall for breakfast. When he walked out of his room, none of the other teachers were in the Hallway, leaving him alone to walk down to breakfast.

While technically walking by himself, he had a great feeling that he was being followed or watched. He looked around constantly, and would occasionally notice one or two children running out of sight each time he would look back. Whether they were two of the same or different children he had no idea, but he didn't even come close to eliminating the latter.

When he arrived to the Great Hall, he again saw most of the heads in the room turn towards him. He walked to the head table as quickly as he could without running. Neville and Malfoy were also at the table. Thankfully, a chair was available next to them, so Harry sat in it.

"Good morning," they both said to him and Harry responded back with "Good morning" as well.

"Were you able to sleep?" Neville asked as Harry helped himself to eggs and toast.

"Unfortunately no," Harry responded honestly.

"Don't worry, neither did I," Malfoy said. "I figure we'll sleep better after getting a full day's dose of what's to come for the rest of the year."

Harry nodded in agreement to this. "What time's your first class?" Harry asked.

"Mine's at the start of the day at eight," Malfoy replied.

"I have a break between classes," Neville said. "Typically, seventh years start Herbology in the morning but I dropped Herbology for their year since there isn't anything new introduced for the year but I do leave the lab opened for them if they want to experiment."

"Mine's at eight thirty," Harry said. "I don't even know what year I'm teaching first."

"Neither do I," Malfoy said. "Nothing like telling us until the last minute. Do you know Neville?"

"I think for History, you'll have first years," Neville responded. "Unfortunately, I don't know your first class Harry."

"It's okay," Harry said. "I'll find out soon enough."

"Oh speaking of History, I got to get going," Malfoy said and took off quickly as he only had two minutes to get to his class.
"Good luck Draco," Harry shouted out as he left.

Neville kept Harry company before Harry left for his class. He went off on how he taught his classes as a way to cool Harry's nerves. This did nothing. In fact, Harry was barely even listening to Neville. He was more thinking about the questions he was going to be receiving from the students and how horrible his teaching skills would be.

When the clock wound down to five minutes before his class, he bid Neville a great day and walked out of the Great Hall. The number of students in the hall had depleted to a fair few, meaning that Harry had little to no eyes on him as he left, which was comforting.

While already a long walk through the castle to his class, he wished it was longer. When he arrived just outside of the class, he could hear many voices from beyond the door. All of whom, undoubtedly, waited for his arrival. Taking a deep breath, he walked through the door. To his horror, he was greeted by seventh year students.

This particularly bothered Harry because, of all years, the students in their seventh year would probably have more questions. As he walked to the front of the class, he could feel the eyes from all twenty students following his every step. They remained unusually quiet.

When Harry reached the front of the class, he turned to face all of them. There wasn't a single head in the room that was reverted away from him.

"Um…hello," Harry said nervously. "My name is Harry Potter and I'm you're new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I haven't been given a lot of insight on what you have learned up to this point in your school lives, so maybe a couple of you can enlighten me."

He said this in hopes of ridding them of questions they had about him. At first, none of them raised their hands. He wasn't even entirely sure they were even listening to him. Finally, a blond haired girl from Ravenclaw's class raised her hand.

"Yes Ms…" Harry responded.

"Olivia Thompson sir," she replied. "We actually, in all honesty, haven't learned all that much in our years here. We've heard rumors about what the class was but this class has sort of been a break class for all of us."

Harry stared at her feeling very confused. "Well, there has to have been something you've learned over the last six years?"

"Unless you mean how to sleep," one boy said in the left corner desk. "We haven't even learned spells in this class over the last six years. All of our spells have been learned in Charms."

Harry felt very lost. He felt that he should have enquired more with his own kids on how this class had been run. Although being the teacher, he felt like the new student. He had no idea that the Defense Against the Dark Arts class had gone this far downhill.

"What kind of spells are you going to teach us professor?" Another kid asked.

This led to utter mayhem as kid after kid began to ask questions. "Are you going to teach us some dark spells?" "Will you teach us defensive spells?" "Will you tell us some old war stories?" The latter of the questions was the more vocal of all of them.

"Hold it," Harry said out loud and the noise started to slowly fade. Harry put his hands up to lower it a little faster. When the room was dead silent, he continued. "I know you've all heard stories about me, about Voldemort, and the huge war."

As he said this, each student leaned in closer and stared obsessively at Harry. Harry felt a great deal of irritation hit him but he calmed himself down quickly. He knew that he was merely talking to curious students, no more curious than he was at Hogwarts.

"I know that you all want to hear the stories," Harry began. "And I know that you want me to tell you them but I know that I shouldn't." Harry could feel the air go out of the room and the smiles that were very present on each of their faces was now gone and a look of disappointment sprang. "Look, I know you're young and think that because we won the war, that it was all fun and games but the truth is it wasn't.

"People died on both sides. Each one had a family that they were instantly ripped apart from. I daresay that one of them might have been a part of one of your families. It's not fun taking someone else's life, it's not fun to watch one of your friends or family members die next to you.

"I know that most of you are thinking that nowadays are boring and uneventful but you really want them to remain that way. You don't want things to go back to the way they were. You don't want to ever think that the next day might be your last."

There was a stunned silence when Harry had finished. Each student had a look of guilt on their face. The once vocal class was now completely mute.

"Now, I will teach you all that I can but I will not tell you anything about that. Are you all okay with that?" Harry asked gently.

There was a murmur of agreement that went across the class. Harry went silent for a few moments to let the uncomfortableness that everyone was feeling pass.

"Now, I know you've all probably learned the basics correct?"

"If you mean spells or history on the darks arts…no," Thompson said suddenly in the back.

Harry looked at her in shock. "Not even defensive spells?"

"No sir," she replied.

Harry now realized where he would be starting; in fact, he realized that his teachings might be easier. However, easier did not mean better as his seventh years would have to start from the beginning. All of his students would have to start from the beginning. While that might not be so bad for all younger years, the seventh years would be leaving Hogwarts sort of empty-handed.

"Okay, let's get started," he said. "Now, I regret to inform you that you lot have missed out on a lot. In fact, you've missed out on a great deal of fun with this class. I would like a volunteer."

The boy who spoke up earlier stood up immediately and walked up to the front of the class.

"Excellent," Harry said. "And you are?"
"Orlando Jameson sir," he replied, looking smug. Jameson reminded Harry of Malfoy when he was a kid. He walked up with a swagger. His hair combed back and he was slightly chubby. His walk and demeanor exuded someone who came from a wealthy background or liked to act like he came from one.

Everyone stared up at him in detest or anger. Harry couldn't tell whether this was from the boy's personality itself or that he got to go first.

"I figured you might start with the best of us first," he said arrogantly.

"If by best, you mean whiniest, than you're right," one young brunette girl said from the front of the class.

"You're just jealous that you don't possess any extraordinary ability," he replied as he took out his wand.

"Expelliarmus," Harry said quickly as he flicked his wand at Jameson's. A green spark rushed from Harry's wand and hit Jameson's, which caused his wand to fly out of his hand and land in Harry's.

The class cheered and laughed at this, while Jameson looked embarrassed. Harry handed him back his wand.

"One of the biggest things that will get you killed in our world..." Harry began. "…is showing off. Mr. Jameson, you can sit down. Thank you so much for volunteering." Harry felt a rush of excitement come over him for the first time in his teachings; it felt great. "All showing off does is distract you. When you're in danger, your enemy is not going to care about your showing off and, quite frankly, neither do I.

"Expelliarmus is a very important spell in your arsenal." The class stared intently, looking intrigued. "It is not only great to disarm your opponent but, if used hard enough, can render them unconscious."

The girl who had spoken up to Jameson earlier raised her hand.

"Yes Ms.?" Harry asked.

"Trini Linder, professor," she said. "Isn't that the spell you used to kill Lord Voldemort?"

Harry suspected that this was merely an attempt to get a story out of him. Although, he could have been wrong and it just might have been an innocent question. With this thought, he answered the question.

"Yes it is," he replied. "It's actually one of my favorite spells. Is it simple? Yes, but it is also effective, which is the kind of spells you're looking for."

Harry went on about the effectiveness of simple spells and had the entire class intrigued. To the point where he had forgotten the time and realized that he had talked beyond the time that he was supposed to dismiss them. This didn't bother the students though as they gladly stayed behind to listen. However, he did have to dismiss them, much to the class's dismay.

The next class waited impatiently for the seventh years to leave. The class that Harry would be teaching next would be the third years. Harry looked intently at the class for his son Albus, who came walking in last.

He looked at his son rather concerned as Albus looked embarrassed. Harry walked up to him as he sat down.

"Are you okay?" He asked in a whisper, so that no one else would hear.

"Yes Dad," Albus replied rather angrily.

Harry left it at this as he realized that Albus might have very well been embarrassed that his father was teaching the class. He walked back up to the front of the class and tried not to attract too much attention to Albus. This was a feat that was easily accomplished as every eye (other than Albus') stared directly up at Harry.

He introduced himself to the class and they remained silent. The class went smoothly as Harry showed all of them Expelliarmus as well, which brought a gigantic aw from the class.

After the class had concluded, Harry knew that Albus would want to leave first, so he tried to cut him off quickly.

"Albus," he called out. "Can you come up here for second?"

Albus walked up to the front of the class with his head down, looking almost ashamed. Harry didn't like seeing this side of his son.

"Yeah Dad," he said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"What's the matter?" Harry asked sympathetically.

"Nothing," Albus said quickly.

"I know you're lying," Harry said but jokingly to ease the tension.

"Well," Albus began, taking a deep breath. "Ever since school started, everyone has been going off on you and only you. All my friends didn't even say hi to me when I walked up onto the train, they immediately began talking about you. So…"

"So, you're feeling unnoticed," Harry finished for him.

"Well…yeah," Albus replied emotionally.

"How do you think I feel?" Harry asked. "I've had to go through this nearly all of my life. Believe me; I would love to be in your shoes right now and not have everyone staring at me all day long."

Albus looked up at Harry for the first time in the conversation. "How did you deal with it when you were here?"

"Sometimes I couldn't," Harry replied. "I didn't want all of that attention and so many people thought that I did. It was hard. Come here," Harry said as he pulled Albus in for a huge hug. "Now I want you to go out there. Don't worry about what other people say. Remember that you are your own person and that's all that should matter.

"You were named after two much more powerful wizards than me. While I might have been the supposed chosen one, I would not have made it nearly as far if it wasn't for those two."

This did get a smile from Albus.

"I love you dad," he said.

"I love you too," Harry replied.

Albus walked out of the class with his head up and walked more positively to the sea of students that were still roaming the halls outside the classroom.

Harry felt an extra stride in his steps as his first day of teaching went very well, leaving him feeling positive about the future to come.