Chapter 13:
Meeting the Faculty
Sunday morning, August 31st, 1996
Harry finished his last week of unemployment by having breakfast with the Marchbanks. Alastor had been released from Saint Mungo's the night before and his wife, Laura, was taking good care of the bandaged man.
"The good doctor recommended light breakfasts," Alastor told him, "namely, berries and hot cereals."
Just then, Mrs. Marchbanks dropped three plates loaded with eggs, Polish sausages, and sauerkraut onto the table.
"But my wife loves me enough to shorten my lifespan against the doctor's best wishes., Alastor finished as Laura kissed him on his brow.
They sat down and dug in while watching Crookshanks' continued attempts to instigate Teddy, the Marchbanks' ancient basset hound. The fat, lazy dog couldn't be coaxed into lifting its saggy head no matter how much the cat of indeterminate age swatted playfully at his snout.
"Thanks again for agreeing to catsit Crookshanks for me," he said between bites, "I wanted him to be close to Hogwarts, so I can deliver him to his new owner."
"And when did you say you would be able to do that?" asked Laura.
"Monday at the earliest," he said, "I need to time it just right."
"Just right?" asked Alastor.
Harry smiled.
"Are you familiar with the concept of a broken fate?" Harry asked rhetorically, seeing as it was something he made up. "It is when something is fated to happen but through some astronomical statistical aberration, didn't. As if the Fate's made an accounting error and it needs to be corrected. Kind of like a time anomaly. Well, this cat was fated to be joined with a young lady three whole years ago, but somehow wasn't."
Alastor and his wife listened intently at his explanation.
"What is so terrible about fates being broken? Surely many fates are terrible and some people should want to break them." Mrs Marchbanks asked.
"For the same long and complicated reasons that time travel is terrible." harry said with a shrug. "When the threads of fate are severed it can unravel the world, for every future fate is predicated on the previous fates coming true. As you two were fated to be married, every future event that only became possible with your union, like the birth of your children and their future actions and children, fall down like Jenga pieces. So on, and so forth. So, when a broken fate is found, it should be remedied as much as possible. I will be doing that this week."
"And something as simple as a person having the correct pet can have those kinds of butterfly effects?" Alastor asked.
"Of course." Harry said. "Just as the smallest change to the timeline through chronomancy can."
Alastor glared at him suspiciously and answered Harry's bait only by chewing more slowly.
"Sometimes really important work is deceptively easy. Unfortunately the other work I have planned is not so." Harry changed the subject.
'Teaching can be a tough job. Especially at Hogwarts." Alastor conceded.
"I was more referring to tracking down an affordable plot to grow wolvesbane ingredients and the shelter for werewolves I'm building." Harry said. "I spent the last few days buying furnishings for the place and it was long, boring work. Don't suppose you can help me with either tasks?"
Alastor motioned with his hands to indicate his broken and healing body. Even going so far as to lift the bandages over one-half of his face to show the burns beneath.
"Oh nooooo!" Harry mocked in his best Mr. Bill impression, "I'm just a frail old man, I couldn't possibly survive trekking around the isles. Says the man who fended off Lord Voldemort with nothing but a FLAMING SWORD OF GOD!"
Alastor didn't take that praise laying down.
"Well, when you say it like that it sounds very impressive, but it's much less so when you consider he and his goons were unarmed. Not a wand between them," he said, "sign of good faith negotiation."
Harry considered him with visible confusion.
"Then how'd he cast a killing curse for you to block with a sword in the first place?" Harry asked.
"He cast it wandlessly," Alastor answered.
That was a concerning claim. Were it anybody except Voldemort Harry would have said it was impossible, but even still the claim strained credulity. Harry was certainly capable of casting the Killing Curse, but casting it or any of the Unforgiveables wandlessly was far beyond his ability. The only exception to S-class spells he could sling around without a wand was the Patronus, and that was only because Harry had such an outstanding affinity for that spell in particular.
Maybe if Voldemort had a similar affinity for the killing curse? That was a frightening possibility, but a possible one. Plausible, even.
"And where did the burns and wounds come from?" Harry asked, "did he manage to summon Fiendfyre wandlessly as well?"
"No, the sword's magic turned on me when it exploded. Got a face and chest full of stone and copper shrapnel," Alastor explained, "the sword didn't appreciate being used as a weapon, strangely enough."
That warranted further investigation. That artifact really ought to be in the Department of Mysteries so the Unspeakables could try and decipher the inner workings of its magic.
"I insist you work with him, dear," Mrs. Marchbanks insisted.
"Why should I go?" Mr. Marchbanks insisted in return, "when he has a hot duelist girlfriend who'd do much better in my place?"
"Well, she barely has enough time as it is to even date me. What, with all of her dueling practices, competitions, and social events. So, joining me for weekend trips across the country is out of the question, as is caring for werewolves for a few days per month." Harry explained, "That and, not to downplay her abilities, but she never fought off the most powerful dark lord in history with a FLAMING SWORD OF GOD!"
Teddy must have gotten worried from all of the yelling because he was at the table now with his head on Harry's lap. He whimpered just like Fang too. Harry patted the frightful thing in order to console him.
Harry gave up on trying to convince the older man and decided to leave it to Laura to nag him into it over the next few weeks. For now, he settled for finishing the excellent breakfast, apparating to the Shrieking Shack and walking to the first home he ever knew. It was time to return to Hogwarts.
The moment Harry stepped past the boundary separating the courtyard and the entrance hall he stretched his magical senses as wide as they would go. The castle welcomed him, as it welcomed all who came here, with an embrace of ancient dust and promises of adventure. It almost fooled Harry into thinking it recognized him, but more likely it recognized his nature and merely approved of him.
He was home.
"Professor Morrigan, I presume," Minerva's thick accent greeted from behind him.
"Ah!" Harry yelled in feigned fright. "Oh, it's just Minnie. Sorry, something about your stern voice made me think I was about to get a paddling."
She made what may have been the most severe expression he'd ever seen on her face in his own universe. Either this Minerva was much more stressed out, or he hit a home run with that joke and she was trying to hide it. He was leaning towards the former.
"The rest of the faculty is meeting in the staff break room, and we are all eager to meet you," she said simply before walking away.
Definitely the former, then.
Assuming she wanted him to follow her, Harry went in the completely opposite direction. Working from memory alone he descended into the dungeons and took a secret passage that opened up into a slide. Riding it deeper into the dungeons he exited near the Slytherin dormitories. What most students didn't know, but probably suspected, is that there was a passage near every common room which lead directly to the private quarters of their head of house. Each of these passages was only accessible to said faculty member and the headmaster.
Unless one spoke parseltongue, in which case hissing a quick "open" to the passage near the Slytherin common room and the exit near the corresponding faculty bedroom. Another feature common to all faculty members was that each of their private quarters was situated right next to another secret passage leading to the headmaster's tower. Each was only accessible to said faculty member but, again, Salazar put parseltongue loopholes into all of the passages he himself crafted.
And so, Harry hissed another 'open' at the wall adjacent to the private quarters of...somebody who wasn't Snape, based on the smell of flowery perfume, and climbed a spiral stone staircase until he exited the portrait of Salazar Slytherin into the hallway leading to Dumbledore's office. Turning away from the office he walked to the door he knew led to the staff meeting room.
"I was under the impression Minerva was to escort you here," Filius greeted the moment Harry opened the door.
Harry blinked as he examined the room. He recognized a few old faces, but just as many he'd never seen before. Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, and Severus Snape were all a given, as was the rough and tumble Elvira, but aside from those the only familiar faces were Hagrid and Professor Sinistra. Oh, and for some reason, Remus was here too. That left three strangers and three empty seats, ignoring Minerva and Albus' absences.
"She sort of just wandered off and left me to my own devices. Must have had more important business to attend to," Harry lied with a shrug.
The more gullible staff members shared concerned looks.
"Anyways, it's nice to meet you all. Don't everybody introduce yourselves at once," Harry went on.
After a short round of indulgent chuckles, they began with the introductions and Harry made his way around the table, shaking each hand he was offered. Which, seeing as those present was polite and professional even at the worst of times, was everyone.
"Professor Flitwick, charms," Filius introduced himself.
"Rebecca Pomfrey, school nurse," Pomfrey introduced herself.
Harry examined the stern woman and wondered what relation she had to the Poppy Pomfrey he knew and adored. Regardless, she had big shoes to fill, but they were shoes that definitely needed filling. He hoped the thirty-something-year-old was up to filling the seventy-something-year-old's position.
"Aurora Sinistra, astronomy," the beautiful dark-skinned woman greeted.
"Elvira De Santigo, survival skills instructor," The duelist introduced herself.
"I know, I saw your duel with Madame Bones. Great stuff." Harry said.
Harry had neither heard of her nor her class before. The long years of war must have made the necessity of branching out from the traditional class structure clear to even the Board of Governors if they deemed it necessary to deviate from the millennia-old curriculum. That or the population of this magical Britain was much greater than his and so Hogwarts was better able to provide additional electives.
All in all? If he wasn't already involved, he would have chased her like many of her teenaged students likely did. He had a thing for gals who could kick his ass.
"Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper," greeted the friendly giant as he nearly crushed Harry's arm with a handshake.
Now that he was up close Harry could see how badly scarred his first friend was. He held his arm in a sling and had two black eyes and a nasty cut above his nose. Still, the gentle soul peered through those beetle eyes just like Harry remembered from before.
"Severus Snape, substitute potions teacher," greeted Snape curtly with a short handshake.
Harry blinked at the man.
"Substitute?" Harry couldn't stop himself from saying, "you give off the air of a man capable of much more in potions than your job title would entail."
Severus' look was a combination of disdain and dissatisfaction at being reminded of his station, but Harry could feel the intention behind it through his magical senses. He was hiding his pride at his own abilities from Harry's disguised compliment behind that sneer in place of abashed humbleness. Why were Slytherins so weird?
The man beside Severus cleared his throat, breaking the two out of the odd social interaction.
"Remus Lupin, defense against the dark arts," Remus greeted.
Harry gave Remus his most genuine smile, so glad was he to see the man in better health and nicer clothes than he'd ever seen the Remus from his own world. Also alive. Very good improvement there.
"Professor Maven is currently at Saint Mungo's from a Death Eater attack, and also missing are our Muggle studies professor, Andrew Hannigan, and our healing arts mistress, Emma Grey. You'll meet them this evening when they arrive," Filius finished, "oh, and Professor Binns, our history of magic teacher, is never seen outside of his classroom. You can go meet him whenever you feel like it."
Professor Binns was rather forgettable, yes.
"Right, and Professor Maven teaches Arithmancy and Runes then?" Harry asked.
"Right in one," Sinistra nodded.
That sounded taxing, teaching two whole subjects. But they did seem like the most likely to be merged into a single course. Honestly, if the Board of Governors wanted to, they could do the same with Divination and Astronomy. Or History and Muggle Studies. He'd have to put that on the agenda for when he got a surrogate to sit on the board.
"That just leaves..." Harry thought to himself, "Do you not teach care of magical creatures?"
"We have split up the duties related to magical creatures between defense against the dark arts and survival class." Said Elvira.
Efficiency is the word of the day, it would seem.
"So. Tell us all about your trip up to Hogwarts!" Pomona egged the conversation on as soon as Harry found his seat beside Sinistra.
"Oh, it was lovely," Harry said honestly, "an early morning trek from my new property in Hogsmeade through the woods was a fine start to the day. The pre-dawn mist and singing of wildlife would be a boost to anybody's mood."
The other professors shared confused looks, as something about his statement must not have added up to them.
"Morning walk...in the woods?" Severus clarified.
"Yup," said Harry, " You know, the big plot of trees between Hogsmeade and here?"
The meaning of his words must have finally registered because almost everyone's expression changed from confused to concerned.
"You don't mean to tell me you walked through the Forbidden Forest on your way here, do you?" Elvira practically seethed.
"Yeah. Why? Am I not allowed to do that?" Harry asked in genuine confusion before he remembered that this version of the Hogwarts staff wasn't familiar with his many adventures in and familiarity with said forest.
"That is highly dangerous!" Little Pomfrey—which is the nickname he will henceforth be thinking of her as—reprimanded as she pulled her wand out and approached him to cast diagnostic charms.
"Really? I thought it was a lovely walk. The thestrals were polite, if a little over-curious and the other denizens kept a safe distance, but weren't as good at hiding as they thought," Harry said as he allowed the young woman to check him over.
That answer earned him a nod of approval and a gracious smile from Hagrid, who had just now finished making him a cup of tea.
"How did the Aurors stationed on the perimeter not spot you?" Elvira pressed on as Hagrid placed a hot mug in front of Harry.
"Oh, they did. Tried to arrest me too. For some reason they found a stranger coming out of the forest in the early dawn suspicious. I ignored them and entered the school," Harry told them, "A young Miss Tonks there helpfully waylaid the ones trying to arrest me: had to explain to her co-workers that I was expected."
"They can be tedious, yes," Sinistra hummed in agreement while trying to hide a smile behind her mug of tea as she took a sip.
Harry got the feeling that half of his new peers thought he was insane, and the other half thought him lying for the sake of humor. And the half questioning his sanity probably didn't believe him either. They would learn soon that every word of it was true.
"Do you have any experience teaching?" asked Lupin when the chuckles and weary looks abated, "I am starting this semester too, and admit I'm rather nervous."
Well yeah, you should be. It's the jinxed job position after all. But it won't be for much longer. But how to answer? Half-truths? Half-truths.
"I used to lead a study group for defense against the dark arts for an entire year when we didn't have a competent teacher. My fellow homeschooled kids picked me because of my...rough experiences. And because I was able to cast a corporeal patronus by the age of thirteen and they found that very impressive," Harry explained.
Harry almost missed Flitwick's jaw hit the floor.
"I find that very impressive myself," the charms master stuttered.
"Everybody has that one spell that just comes to them naturally. For me, it was the Patronus. Or, well, it didn't come easy. But when it did come to me, I was very good at it. Same for the summoning charm. Both hard won but doubly rewarding," Harry explained "Once I finished with my homeschooling and took my NEWTS for the first time, the town decided to hire me as Defense teacher for all of the students."
"At such a young age?" Professor Sprout questioned, "And how did that go?"
"It was a disaster," Harry answered honestly, "I was completely overwhelmed, not by the workload mind you, but from the multiple panic attacks I suffered from trying to herd children and teenagers into a class where they learned to cast curses at each other as well as the methods for defending against or countering them."
Flitwick, Pamona, and, oddly, Snape all permitted him sympathetic nods at that confession.
"And what makes you think you'd be better able to handle the work now?" Remus asked.
"You mean aside from my being nine years wiser?" Harry asked, "The fact that I'll be teaching a subject that doesn't have children waving wands around and casting offensive spells at one another. No panic attacks for me this year. No sir!"
"But there will be quite a bit of hair-pulling, I assure you," Elvira assured him.
Oh boy, was he ever expecting that to be true.
"I actually swore that I'd never take a teaching position again after that. And yet here I am," Harry finished his tale of woes.
"And why are you here: breaking your oath?" Filius asked.
"I felt pushed into taking the position," Harry said honestly, "received several signs that I was supposed to do so."
Several of the faculty either perked up as they reached the subject that fascinated them the most about the enigmatic Hadrian Morrigan or rolled their eyes in anticipation of wobbly divination bullshit. Harry planned to disappoint both teams.
"What kind of signs would that be?" Sinistra asked, her entire attention focused on him.
"Well, let's see," Harry ticked off his points on his fingers, "Between the entirety of Diagon Alley thinking I'm Nostradamus for some reason, me suddenly discovering a hitherto unknown talent for divination while taking the written exam, and seeing an ad in the paper looking for a new Divination professor, I got the hint. And wouldn't you know it, just as I finished reading said classified the owl with my new NEWT results flew in and dropped it right on my face. Whoever claimed the Fates are subtle is a liar."
Based on the nervous laughter at his humorous tale, he could tell they didn't know if he was joking or serious. Frankly, he was a bit of both.
"Is that how the Fates usually talk to you?" Severus said in his most demeaning voice.
Oh, we were going there? He didn't care very much to "defend the honor of his chosen field", but he was always up for a match with Snape. He had over half a decade of repressed aggression towards the man to let out.
"Well no, usually I just know things I shouldn't. I can sense people's nature, or past and future, all things that freak people out if I comment on," Harry said honestly, "Most of the time I have to make a concerted effort not to use these abilities, kind of like how a natural Legilimens, like you, has to consciously suppress the ability in order to respect other people's privacy."
Snape waved off that "reading" with a hand motion and a snort.
"Then make a reading on me, one that isn't common knowledge, unlike my skills with the mental arts" he challenged.
"Did you miss the part where I said it freaks people out?" said Harry, "I'm here to build bridges, not burn them. And sharing private information about somebody in front of his colleagues is a good way to lose friends. Not quite as good as calling your best friend and the only woman you ever loved a mudblood in front of all of your classmates. But a close second."
Before Harry even finished that scathing remark Snape had already stood up from his seat and calmly walked out of the meeting. If Harry were to extend his senses now, he would surely feel the rage wafting off the man like fumes from a freshly baked habanero and lemon pie. It tastes a lot better than it sounds. It was one of George's best inventions for pure disgust factor.
Minerva came in exactly as Snape left, and glanced back and forth between the congregation and the man who nearly bodied her in his haste to get out of Harry's presence.
"What was that? And...wait," she started before noticing Harry's presence, "how did you even get here before me? I looked everywhere for you!"
"Oh, you know. Youth. Spryness. Quicker pace of movement from having strong hips and longer legs," Harry said offhandedly, "and Severus needs some time to cool off. He chose to get into a verbal duel with me and it didn't end well for him."
Minerva looked to Filius who was still holding a hand over his mouth to try and hide his shocked expression, then to the confused looks of those present. The only person who Harry knew for a fact knew the meaning behind that statement was Remus, who was staring at Harry with something akin to awe and terror.
"I believe you may have just made a mortal enemy out of one of the most dangerous men in Britain," Remus told him.
Most dangerous men in Britain? If he were to make a pyramid of people it was unwise to get into a fight with, Harry'd put Snape an order of magnitude above Bella, Molly, and Alastor(Moody) and right beside Minerva and Filius, who themselves were an order of magnitude below Voldemort and Dumbledore. If he were honest with himself though, he'd put Severus closest to Albus and Tom out of the three teachers.
With another half-century of life, Snape could come close to rivaling the two, as could Harry, if either were to devote their entire existence to achieving parity with the powerful mages. But that would never happen. Snape was too focused on potions and Harry was too focused on sports and mischief. The kind of mischief that led the people of Cheran, Mexico, to pick up arms and drive out the cartels and corrupt police and politicians. Good times.
"Oh, we aren't enemies," said Harry, "that was just a warning shot. I know that man can be extremely antagonistic if you show him any weakness. I can also tell that he is a truly good man deep—and I do mean deep, deep down—inside. But I don't take kindly to bullies or people who want to test me. If he ignores the warning and tries to escalate, I will too."
He took a sip of his tea as he allowed his coworkers to digest that declaration. He then clarified.
"I'm not interested in starting wars or rivalries. But I'll happily end them."
Sure, he respected Severus and his abilities. But it would be a cold day in hell before he actually liked the guy.
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