.
By the end of tea(20% tea) time, Minerva gazed at the young man thirty years her junior with a wicked gleam in her heart.
He was definitely hiding something. But not in a suspicious way. Even in casual conversation, she could tell that Henry was strong, yet of an unassuming personality, and had a very mature outlook on life for his age. Moreover, despite being a rookie professor on his second day of teaching, he sometimes showed the air of someone who has had a teaching experience since he was a teenager.
In other words, he possessed the qualities of an extremely competent Head of House. And she lost him in the hustle-and-bustle of Deputy-Headmistress duties!
'Slughorn, that conniving, network-addicted obese snake! And Albus, that senile codger taking me for a dupe! I'll murder those two some day!'
Fortunately, this young man is not a real Slytherin. She reminded herself.
Minerva finished her drink, determined to somehow make Henry a free agent next year and scout him for Gryffindor.
...
Walking out of the Deputy Headmistress' office and down the corridors of Hogwarts, Harry giggled to himself.
Alas, the insight, so casually uttered by a wise woman, professor of twenty years, was as accurate as prophecy.
James Potter would grow up, get married, have a baby, and then truly become a man. How obvious, how mundane, how clichéd.
And it was the truth.
The boy who grew up as an only child in a rich family, who became a clichéd bully in school, who somehow managed to get the girl he wanted with what he possessed, and who, once he had her, grew up and dedicated himself to his family in another clichéd way.
And because of that dedication, Harry survived.
...
...
'...Harry. James only truly became a man when he realized your existence.'
'Uh... from what I heard, he turned over a new leaf in his seventh year, dated my mother, and even became a Head Boy.'
The old professor's wry smile, and his eyes, piercing blue even in the portrait, wavered all too humanly.
'...You were the source of James's first realization of what responsibility actually is. Up until that point, James Potter's idea of responsibility had been on the level of knocking up his girlfriend and marrying her as soon as possible. Joining the Order of the Phoenix after graduation, swearing to defeat Voldemort, and hunting down Voldemort's followers with his wife at the age of eighteen... frankly, I think even that was more of a teenage thrill for James than an act out of dedication and commitment. You see, Voldemort was unwilling to kill off a wealthy, powerful, prestigious young couple he could have recruited to his side.'
'...And... you're telling me you just accepted him?'
'Harry. A not-yet-mature person at the age of eighteen is quite normal. Not everyone grows up mentally at an early age as you did.'
'You think I'm arguing with that? I'm talking about you, recruiting a kid like that into the Order based on nothing more than his fighting skills!'
'...Based on his being a wizard-of-age who is skilled in combat magic, is bold and not likely give in to any threats, can influence others as the heir to an old House, and has the wealth to support his peers and other members of the Order... Yes. I was, by inviting James to join the Order immediately after graduation, taking advantage of an 18-year-old who was only an adult by paper.'
'...'
'Marrying his school sweetheart, fighting the villains who threatened his girl's life, swooning with joy at the news that she was pregnant with his baby... until that point, James was a boy who was living an adventure story in which he was the hero.'
'...'
'And I was the one who brought him the information that made him a man.'
Lily's belly had been swelling, and James was smiling from ear to ear with contentment. Truly, he was soaring at the height of his life even in that dangerous times.
The Headmaster's blue eyes glowed coldly, as they had at the very moment when he warned the boy, who had been basking in the joys of life, that the Dark Lord would seek to kill his unborn son.
.
.
Early September, 1975. Hogwarts Potions Classroom
At fifth year Gryffindor-Slytherin Potions class.
A collective gasp echoed through the room as the door to the classroom opened, and Professor Peverell, a dark, short-haired, military-looking man, entered.
"I am Professor Henry Peverell, your new Potions teacher, in charge of 4th and 5th year classes."
The professor introduced himself, but none of the students needed the introduction. The eighty or so students stared at him with glazed eyes, their minds back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
They could still see the image of Peverell, a battle-mage, practicing rounds and rounds of duels with the students, four-on-one, cleanly and gracefully for more than an hour. His duel with the Potter gang at the end of class (as well as his unprecedented crazy punishment to Potter) was also amazingly impressive.
Now, as Potions Master, what incredible lessons would he have in store for them?
Henry smiled sweetly at the expectant students.
"Wands in, pens out."
"..."
The students' sitting height decreased by half an inch on average. Unperturbed, the professor swept his wand once, widely, and all the cauldrons on their desks vanished instantly. The students' shoulders dropped another half an inch.
"Okay. Now that you're ready, let's start the lesson. First, the lesson objectives. What do you think the goal of this class is?"
At his question, which could not have been more formal and staid, the mood of the class become quickly subdued.
From somewhere in Gryffindor part of classroom, a boy's murmur of, "Can't we just get him out of Potions and have him stick to Defense?" was heard; he was immediately hit with a handful of ice-cold water droplets.
After a moment, someone in Slytherin answered hesitantly.
"...Uh, learning the Potions with safety, with a healthy balance of theory and practice, sir."
Peverell chuckled.
"Excellent, that's the goal of the fourth-year Potions class from the previous hour! Two points for your diligent effort in collecting information."
"..."
"However, that is the aim for a fourth year Potions, and what you have this year is a little different."
The professor tapped the board lightly. The words "Course Aims" appeared in large, white letters in the middle of the board.
Course Aims :
'1. O.W.L : D-279'
'2. Focus on Aim 1.'
.
...