A/N: This is going to be one looong story. The pace'll be quite sedate. Deliberate cuteness will occur. Bear with me on this one, if you will.
The first day of classes started. Dumbledore came down with his staff to eat breakfast, again carrying an already bathed and fed baby. He had decided that it would be best if he brought Severus along as often as possible so that his staff and students would get used to him.
He smiled at Harry. "Nervous?"
Harry nodded, playing with his toast. "Terrified. The DA was one thing, but this is different."
Dumbledore chuckled. "I know, my boy. When I started teaching…the first day…I was sure I would die there and then."
Smirking, Harry took a sip of pumpkin juice, not looking at all surprised when he returned to his plate to find the completely demolished toast gone, and some fruit in its place. Taking a bite, his gaze swept over the students.
"I have sixth years first," he commented around the bite of pear, "they remember me from my own days as a student. I'm a bit worried. And…and I've been…been meaning to ask you something…"
"What, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, turning his considerable attentions completely to the young professor.
"I…I know it's weird, and it's unprecedented, but I really feel like it's the right thing to do. I mean, there's a lot to make up for…"
"Harry, Harry, stop," the old man ordered, "You're not making sense. What exactly is it that you want?"
Harry squirmed, then met the headmaster's gaze head on. "There is still no Head of Slytherin House. I'd like to apply."
It had been a long time since anyone had been able to so profoundly shock Albus into silence. Aberforth had managed on several occasions, of course, but even his antics had grown old after a few decades.
"I'll be up to talk to you about it after classes," Harry said, pushing his plate back and standing, "think about it, please?"
Dumbledore could only mutely nod.
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"WaaaahhhhWaaaahhhhWaaaaahhhhhh"
"Oh, hush, child," Poppy Pomfrey frowned at the naked infant, "it's only a wand."
She waved it over the crying baby, who chose that precise moment to relieve himself of some excess liquid.
"YUCK!"
"Waaaaaahhhhh!"
Dumbledore, who had been growing steadily more annoyed throughout the examination, chuckled.
"I believe, Poppy, that Severus is feeling cold and unhappy with your examination. So if you are finished…?"
"Yes, yes," the witch glared, as she magically dried her uniform, "he is perfectly healthy and growing at a normal pace. Get him out in the fresh air a bit more often while the weather is still good."
Picking the infant up from the table, Dumbledore moved him to a bed and started to dress him. Severus quieted upon seeing his grandfather, and a clumsy little arm tried to grab the beard.
"Uh huh, sweetheart, not Grandpa's beard."
He carefully disentangled the small fingers and pressed a kiss on the mini-hand. Severus gifted him with another of his smiles, traces of tears still running down his face.
Having dressed him, Dumbledore picked him up to cuddle him.
"There, little one. That's better now, isn't it? How about we go get you a nice bottle, hmmm?"
The baby nestled close to him, objecting to being put back in his pram, so Dumbledore simply carried him, and charmed the pram to follow them back up to the tower.
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Harry sighed deeply as he heard the sound for the first class go off. Within five minutes, the first group of students would arrive: sixth years Slytherin-Hufflepuff.
"Oh why did I ever think I could teach," Harry groaned, as all his carefully prepared lessons plans seemed to leak out of his brain at an alarming rate.
"Suck it up, Potter."
He looked around in bewilderment.
"Honestly, they're a bunch of little dunderheads. After defeating Voldemort, surely you can handle a few teens?"
"S-Snape?" Harry asked.
No answer came.
Harry studied the class, cast a number of revealing spells, but those yielded nothing.
"Oh well, must've been my imagination. Anyway, it was what Snape would've said, and he's right. I can do this."
He straightened his robes, and watched as the students filed in, a bit uncertain. They had all been used to years and years of Binns. All of them, even the Slytherins, couldn't help but be impressed with the changes to the classroom.
"Oh look, it's Morgana and Merlin," they pointed each other to the timeline, "And there are the Founders! Greetings, Lord Slytherin, Lady Hufflepuff."
"Greetings, dear students," Lady Hufflepuff smiled happily, "Well met."
"Ah, young snakes," Salazar nearly hissed, "Welcome. Pay close attention; you never know when you might learn something useful."
"Thanks a lot, Sal," Harry smirked, "coming from you, that's exhuberant praise. Alright, everyone sit down, please."
His tone was pleasant, but brooked no argument. The students hurriedly took their seats. Instead of rows, the tables were arranged in a U shape, with Harry standing up front.
"Right. Well, I remember most of you, and you might remember me."
A few snorts from the Slytherins confirmed that this was indeed the case.
"Alright, show of hands: how many of you managed to stay awake for more than ten of Binns's classes? No one? Hmmm. Five classes? Excellent, Mr Harcourt. One of these days you'll have to tell me how you managed that. Of all the people I know, only professor Granger actually managed to not only stay awake, but take copious notes as well."
Snickering was heard, and the Slytherin boy managed a smile.
"As you can see, I don't intend on following professor Binns's lesson plans. If he had any. You have also noticed that there was no book on your list for this class. This was done deliberately. That does not mean, however, you will get out of reading. It just means I prefer not to follow the opinions of one single author. You will study facts and dates…when was dragon breeding outlawed, Mr Harcourt?"
"1709, sir," came the prompt answer.
"Correct, five points to Slytherin. While a date like this in itself might seem useless to know, there are things connected to it. Events. Processes. Timelines and dates are the skeleton of history. To have them firmly in your head is important, because it will help you place the events we will be talking about. Those of you who are muggleborn will know the saying that history tends to repeat itself. You will see that this is true. Knowing what happened in the past will help you understand the processes that are taking place today. Ignorance leads to fear. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to destruction."
He leaned forward, eyeing the Slytherins especially. "Knowledge leads to understanding. Understanding leads to power. With power, you can build."
They were sizing him up, he knew. So far he had made a reasonable impression, despite being Harry Potter. He had given one of their number points. He hadn't made scathing remarks. He had taken the time to explain how this course would serve them – without condemning them for being ambitious.
The Hufflepuffs had expected a confrontation between their new professor and the Slytherins. In fact, they had expected a second Snape – in spy mode – this time favoring Gryffindor. The entire class quickly realized that the young professor in front of them was different from the Gryffindor boy that had attended school here.
"There will be a number of visitors to this class throughout the year," Harry continued, "goblins, centaurs, house elves, depending on the topic we're studying. If the weather allows, we will set up battle re-enactments outside, probably combined with the other sixth year and the seventh year classes. So pay close attention to what professor Moody teaches you on duelling; you will be seeing those things again in this class. He will likely join our battles, as will the headmaster – they did witness most of those battles themselves, after all."
More laughter.
A hand tentatively rose. "Sir?"
"Yes?" Harry smiled.
"Sir…I thought…that with you teaching this class…we would discuss the last war mostly."
Harry shook his head. "There is more to our history than this one war, miss Zeller. Besides, you are old enough to remember most of it. And I am not sure if I'm even the right person to teach about that."
"Why not?" Harcourt had grown a bit bolder and looked Harry straight in the eye.
"History is most often written by the victors," Harry explained, "and they don't always get their facts straight, aside from obviously being biased. There have been foreign observers who studied the rise and fall of Voldemort. I will be inviting one of them to teach this particular topic. But, as we will be starting from the time the Romans came here, it'll be some time before we reach that point."
Harry closed his eyes briefly to think.
"Well, I think I will give you your assignment now, and let you go so you can get a head start on it. For next class, create your own timeline. Don't sneak in here and copy mine, I'll know! You may do this in pairs, if you wish."
The students packed their bags, and started to leave.
"Miss Zeller, a word, please," Harry called to the Hufflepuff.
Rose Zeller shot a nervous glance at her friends, who indicated they would wait for her, and approached Harry's desk.
"Relax, you're not in trouble," Harry smiled, "I merely wanted to thank you."
"Thank me?" the girl stammered, confused.
"For the other night. Miss Falcon-Ashley is a good friend of mine, and I was pleased when you made her feel welcome."
Miss Zeller blushed. "I…she seemed nervous…I just figured…if it was me up there…I'd feel better if people treated me with respect."
"And you were right, Miss Zeller," Harry nodded, "thank you. Five points to Hufflepuff, for being very considerate."
The girl left, still bright red, to join her friends, and the young History teacher decided to go for a quick cup of coffee before his second class.
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Severus was laying in his playpen when Harry entered the office, his now dark eyes following a tiny broom and a snitch that Dumbledore had charmed to fly over his head.
Harry watched him for a while in fascination. Occasionally, an arm would make an awkward movement. Severus clearly wanted to reach out and catch the snitch or the broom, but was not yet capable of controlling the limb.
Albus smiled, and stroked a soft baby cheek before turning his attention to Harry.
"Head of Slytherin. Explain."
"They need a new Head of House, and we owe them, Albus," Harry leaned over to show the snitch to the child. The tiny hand closed around it.
"Yes, that's it, Junior. Remember how that feels, so you know how to catch it from a broom later," Harry encouraged.
"HARRY JAMES POTTER! Let the child play and tell me what you mean."
The history professor sat up straight, sighing in fatique. "I mean, Albus, that we have to own up to our share of the blame that so many Slytherins were drawn to Tom. Would they have been as tempted as they were if they felt they were valued here, with us? Power is one thing, but you have power. Most of the staff, the regular staff, are powerful witches and wizards. We accuse Slytherin of being prejudiced, but perhaps we are a lot more prejudiced than they are. We helped destroy Slytherin House, Albus. It's our job to rebuild it."
"Do you think they will accept you?" Albus softly asked.
"Perhaps not at first, although things seemed to be going well with them in class today. I'm not promising miracles, and if you find someone better, please, go ahead and appoint them, but I'm not afraid to accept my responsibility in this matter."
Seeing the determined face, and watching the small child in the pen, the headmaster conceded.
"Very well then. Tomorrow at breakfast I will make the announcement. Harry Potter, Head of Slytherin…"
"If I were actually dead, I'd be spinning in my grave," they both heard the voice of the potions master.
The baby gurgled, while Albus and Harry looked confused.
Each of them attributed it to tiredness and an overactive imagination, and quickly changed the topic, fearful the other wold find out.