Out With the Old Professors, In With the New

Ch. 6: The History Master

Harry awoke that morning to Ron shaking him awake. "C'mon, Harry, wake up," said Ron, handing him a plate of pastry and a goblet of pumpkin juice, "it's nearly time for Hermione's class. We all figured you could use some extra rest after last night, so we let you have a lie in. You feeling any better?"

"Yes, thanks Ron, I'm feeling much better," said Harry as he made a selection from the tray and began munching on a Danish. "And thanks for the food, I'm starved." While he ate, he felt around on his nightstand for his glasses, pulled on his robes, and he and Ron left for the history classroom.

Ron wanted to talk about the events of the night before, but Harry did not feel inclined to discuss them yet. He assured Ron he was OK, and after he told him he wanted to wait to discuss the dream until they could consult with Hermione too, Ron seemed satisfied.

Ron grew quiet as they approached the history classroom, and Harry could see that he was nervous for some reason.

"This class is sure going to be interesting, one way or another," remarked Ron.

Harry noticed that Ron had his wand out, as if he were ready for some kind of action.

"If that Malfoy or anybody else gives Hermione any trouble, I'll hex them like they've never been hexed before!" said Ron savagely, and a few sparks issued forth from the end of his wand.

As they walked through the door into the dusty classroom, Harry replied, "Don't worry Ron, Hermione can take care of herself. I'm sure she'll be fine." Privately though, Harry was also concerned for their friend. He knew she'd take if hard if her class didn't start off on the right foot.

"You'll back me up if there's any trouble though, right Harry?" asked Ron, looking around the room as if he expected enemies in every corner.

"Of course I will!" said Harry forcefully. "No one gets to pick on Hermione but us."

They both laughed, and Neville, who had overheard Harry's remark, said, "Anyone who tries to give Hermione any trouble will have to deal with me, too. I'll introduce them to my Mimbelus Mimbletonia".

Just then, the door opened suddenly, and Hermione strode purposefully to the front of the classroom. She approached the teacher's desk, her blood-red robes swirling. As she turned to face the class, she gestured toward the back of the room with her wand, and the door slammed shut. The students were still whispering as Hermione began to address the class.

"Silence!" she said, in a soft voice that nevertheless carried throughout the class. "There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class." She paused for a second, looking about hawkishly. "As such, I don't expect many of you to appreciate the exact science and subtle art that is the study of history. However, for those... select few," she said, glancing meaningfully at Ron, "who possess the predisposition, I can tell you tales that will bewitch your mind and ensnare your senses. I can tell you of wizards who achieved fame and sought glory, even at the cost of death."

Most of the students, even the Slytherins, were gawking at Hermione. This was certainly different from Binn's history class. Malfoy was feverishly taking notes, and Hermione stared at him while continuing: "Then again, maybe some of you have come to this class in possession of knowledge so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention!" Hermione paused, and Zabini nudged Malfoy in the ribs. He looked up from his parchment, and winced at Hermione's disdainful expression.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said silkily. "Our... resident... aristocrat. Tell me, who was responsible for the Continental Wizard Accord of 1326?" After a moment of silence, she said, "You don't know? Well, let's try again. Where, Mr. Malfoy, would you say was the location of the last surviving Giant village in Britain?"

"I don't know, ma'am" muttered Malfoy, as Zabini's hand shot up beside him.

"And what is the difference between the Wizard-Goblin Accords and the Wizard-Goblin Protocols?" she asked sharply.

Malfoy again muttered, "I don't know, ma'am."

Hermione sneered, and said in a cold voice, "Pity. Clearly, ancestry isn't everything, is it, Mr. Malfoy?"

Zabini, whose hand had been in the air the entire time, blurted out, "Please, ma'am, the last surviving Giant community in Britain was in the Scottish Highlands, and the difference between the Wizard-Goblin Accords and the Wizard-Goblin Protocols was..."

"Silence!" shouted Hermione, cutting off Zabini's answer. "You do not speak in my classroom unless you are called on. That's 5 points from Slytherin for being an insufferable know-it-all!"

It looked as if Zabini were going to cry, as the Slytherins glared angrily at Hermione. She ignored them, and turned toward Ron and Harry. "Mr. Weasley! Can you tell me who it was that prevented Lord Voldemort from recovering the Sorcerer's Stone?"

"Um, of course, Hermione," began Ron nervously. As she glared at him, he stuttered, "I, I mean, yes, Professor Granger. That was Harry. I mean Harry Potter. Ma'am."

"Excellent, Mr. Weasley," she replied. "I'm glad to see someone in this class who shows some aptitude for history. Take 5 points for Gryffindor."

"Now, let's get to work," said Hermione. "Open your texts to Chapter 3, Magic in Ancient Egypt. I want a roll of parchment by the end of class on famous Egyptian wizards and the measures they took to safeguard the tombs of the Pharaohs."

The students hurried to get out their texts, parchment and quills. Suddenly, there was a cry from the back of the class. In his haste to follow Hermione's instructions, Gregory Goyle had knocked over his inkbottle. As the ink poured onto his robes, he jumped up from his chair, looking down uncomfortably.

"Idiot boy!" Hermione shouted. "I suppose you failed to place your inkbottle away from the edge of your desk." Turning to Crabbe, she snapped, "Take him to the hospital wing!"

"The hospital wing?" asked a confused Crabbe. "It's just some ink."

"Silence!" barked Hermione. "Just get him out of my classroom! The next student who disrupts class or speaks out of turn will receive detention. Now get to work! You will raise your hand when your essay is completed."

Harry tried to read about the wizards of Ancient Egypt, but he was having trouble concentrating. Hermione had sure surprised him! She was going to have little trouble controlling her classes, he thought. He watched as she strolled around the classroom, occasionally complementing a Gryffindor or berating a Slytherin. Zabini had five points taken away for needing to borrow a quill from Malfoy to replace a broken one, while Neville won ten points for being the first to complete his essay (Hermione had "failed to notice" Pansy Parkinson, whose hand went up just before Neville's did.)

Suddenly, it seemed to Harry, Hermione was addressing the class. "Class is nearly over. You have two minutes to complete your essays, please finish them and bring them up to my desk."

"Where has the time gone?" thought Harry. He hurried to write a few more sentences about Egyptian wizards, but in the end managed to fill only half a page. "Oh well, it'll have to do," he thought as he walked up to Hermione's desk to hand in his essay.

As the students waited in the queue to hand in their work, Hermione said, "You are all to purchase a copy of Hogwarts: A History, and read and summarize the first two chapters by our next class meeting. Also, I will need a student to assist me in preparing some materials for our next class. Are there any volunteers?"

Harry thought that might be a good time to talk privately to Hermione about his dream. He and several other students raised their hands.

"Yes, thank you all, but I only need one assistant," Hermione replied. "Mr. Weasley, please meet me here at 9:00 this evening, and we'll get down to business."

"Yes, Professor Granger," Ron replied with a grin.

Hermione sat down at her desk, and collected the students' essays as they filed quietly from the classroom. Harry waited until all of them except for he and Ron had left, and then addressed Hermione.

"Um, Professor, can I talk to you for a minute?" asked Harry nervously.

"Lighten up Harry, you don't have to be so formal when class is over," she replied with a grin, gesturing for them to sit down. "Um, how did you like my first class?"

Harry and Ron sat down on top of the table in front of Hermione's desk.

"It was good!" replied Harry, as Ron nodded in agreement. "Much better than old Binns' classes were. I didn't expect you to come across quite like that, though."

"Yeah, you sure stuck it to those Slytherins!" agreed Ron enthusiastically.

"Boy, that was fun!" said Hermione with a malicious grin. "I'm sure going to like being a Professor. I was quite nervous until I had the chance to get some advice from Severus about how to manage a class."

"Severus?" whispered Harry to Ron out of the corner of his mouth.

Hermione continued. "He was quite convincing about the joys of teaching. Holding the fate of puny lesser intellects in your hands, tyrannizing the students; did you see Zabini almost start bawling!" she finished with a laugh.

Harry and Ron just stared at her for a few moments.

"Uh, sure Hermione," said Harry uncertainly. "Anyway, I had a dream last night, one of those Voldemort telepathy things".

Hermione gasped, and Ron interjected, "Yeah, you should have seen it, he was screaming and thrashing around and puking and gibbering like an idiot..."

"Thanks Ron," said Harry angrily, cutting Ron off, "but I'll tell the story if you don't mind." He then described his dream in detail, explaining how Voldemort was incensed over the fiasco regarding his dress robes, and the revelations that he had spy at Hogwarts, and was even now implementing a plan to capture and finish off Harry.

"Well, what do you think, Hermione?" finished Harry, as she thoughtfully considered what he had said.

"Harry, I think we should go right to Professor Dumbledore and tell him about your dream," she answered. "He might be able to use the information, and he can surely give you some useful advice."

"OK, that sounds like a good idea, let's go," said Harry.

Hermione looked very surprised. "Really?" she said. "We're not going to search the castle for the spy, or run off into the Forbidden Forest, or try to capture Voldemort ourselves or anything?"

"Why, do you think we should?" asked Harry.

"NO!" Hermione replied forcefully, jumping up from her seat. She sat back down, and in a calmer tone, continued. "I mean, it's just that, well, usually we don't tend to go with my suggestions very often, that's all."

"C'mon Hermione, we listen to you a lot," said Ron soothingly. "It's just that Harry's the plan-on-the-fly, react-to-the-action guy in our group."

As Ron and Harry exchanged a high-five, Hermione rolled her eyes and replied sardonically, "Oh yes, I'm well aware of that."

After quickly reflecting on how nice and peaceful things would be if she had been sorted into Ravenclaw, Hermione said, "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go see Albus."

"Albus? Albus!" said Ron with glee as Hermione blushed. In a high voice meant to mimic Hermione, Ron continued. "Oh Harry, let's go see Albus! Then perhaps tea with Minerva, a quick game of Exploding Snap with Severus and a stroll around the lake with Rubeus!"

As Harry laughed appreciatively, Hermione said, "Ha ha Ron, very funny. If you can act your age for a moment, perhaps we can all go see Professor Dumbledore now?"

Still laughing, Harry and Ron followed Hermione to the entrance to Dumbledore's office. They stopped at the stone gargoyles, and Hermione gave the password: "Marzipan Elf Eyes". The entrance opened, and the trio climbed on to the enchanted staircase.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they found the door to Dumbledore's office already open, and he called out, "Welcome, Hermione, come in, Harry and Ron."

The office was just as Harry had remembered it. The previous headmasters stared out from their portraits with interest. Dumbledore's collection of esoteric silver instruments filled the tables and shelves, and Fawkes snoozed on his perch in the corner.

"I trust this is not a matter relating to classroom discipline?" the headmaster finished with a grin, as Harry, Ron and Hermione took seats opposite his desk.

Hermione said, "Not at all, Professor, Harry has something very important to tell you."

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows, and said, "Indeed? Well, what can I do for you, Harry?"

Nervously, Harry said, "Well, sir, I've had another dream about Voldemort!"

As Professor Dumbledore sat bolt upright in his chair, Ron interrupted and added, "Yeah, you should have seen it, he was screaming and thrashing around and..."

"OK Ron, I'll take it from here," said Harry, again cutting off Ron's vivid description of the events of last night.

Harry then related the details of his dream to Professor Dumbledore. When he had finished, the Headmaster stood up from his desk and walked slowly over to the window. Frowning, he peered out at the grounds, took off his spectacles, wiped them carefully with his robe, and replaced them. After a few moments, he sighed and turned back to the three students.

"Harry, I'm glad you came to me with this information," he said soberly. "It helps to fill in the gaps of some intelligence I have received regarding Tom's schemes and movements, and lets me better plan my next move."

"But Professor, what will we do?" asked Harry anxiously. "Do you really think there is another spy here at Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore looked Harry in the eyes for a moment before he continued. "Harry, I'd like to tell you what's going on, and what I know about the whole situation, but I'm afraid there are some secrets I cannot share with you at this moment. In time, when you are ready, I'll fill you in with all the details. Judging from the way things have gone here the last five years, that'll probably be a few days before you all catch the train back home."

"Oh, c'mon Albus," said Hermione. "You know Harry's going to stumble across, uh, I mean, figure out everything sooner or later. Just this once, why don't you let us in on what you know."

"I'd like to, I really would," replied Dumbledore, shrugging. "There's just the little problem of Voldemort having access to Harry's thoughts. Any time I reveal anything to Harry, I have to worry if Voldemort is tuned in at that moment."

"Wouldn't I know if he were listening in, or eavesdropping, or whatever it is he does?" asked Harry.

"Well, of that we cannot be certain," said Dumbledore. "It does not appear that Tom is aware of your 'eavesdropping', as you call it, on his thoughts. It may be that the connection works the same in both directions. What is clear is that he can access your thoughts when you are experiencing extreme emotions, like strong anger or profound happiness."

Harry considered that for a moment. "Oh god!" he thought. He had recently experienced such strong feelings after an impromptu Quidditch practice. A loose board between the dressing rooms had allowed him to 'accidentally' watch Angelina Johnson showering, and that had certainly provoked a powerful reaction on Harry's part. He cringed at the idea of Voldemort intruding on such a private moment, and resolved to refrain from any further post-practice gawking. On the other hand, maybe he could get Colin to loan him his camera, he mused. "No Harry! Focus!" he told himself, returning to the conversation.

"In any event," Dumbledore continued, "Voldemort is of course a skilled Legilimens, so he may be able to manipulate the connection in ways we cannot anticipate. With this risk, I feel it only prudent to limit the information I share with you, Harry, until you learn to block Voldemort's intrusions. I think that you should resume your Occlumency lessons as soon as possible. I'll speak to Professor Lupin about it at dinner. This time, Harry, I would suggest you apply yourself fully to developing this ability."

"Yes sir," Harry mumbled, somewhat embarrassed over his failure to follow through with his promise to learn Occlumency last year.

"But what about the spy, Professor?" asked Ron apprehensively. "What will we do about Harry getting kidnapped!"

Dumbledore smiled, and replied, "Well, Mr. Weasley, I trust you and Hermione and your friends will do everything in your power to help Harry, as you have always done. Do not for a moment think that your assistance has not been invaluable, and is not greatly appreciated."

Ron and Hermione blushed at this compliment, and Dumbledore continued.

"However, I and others have anticipated and prepared for further attacks on our young friend here. I would not be giving away too much if I told you that Remus and Sirius were not brought here solely, or even primarily, to teach classes. I will reveal to you, Harry, that you are being constantly monitored, and we will be able to act immediately upon any threat to you or action against you. Your confirming my belief that there is a spy here at Hogwarts aids us significantly in our efforts to keep you safe. However, until we identify the culprit, I must ask you all to keep this information secret."

"Of course Professor, we won't tell anyone," replied Harry, and Ron and Hermione nodded their agreements.

"Excellent. Now, you had all best go and get some lunch before your afternoon classes begin," said Dumbledore, dismissing the students. "And remember, if any of you have any suspicions about who the spy might be, or any other information you think I should know, please seek me out at any time."

The three students thanked Professor Dumbledore and headed back down the staircase. Dumbledore watched them leave, then closed his door. He walked over to Fawkes and began to pat his loyal phoenix, while he considered the secret burden he bore.

If only he could share the complete truth with Harry, he thought. But that would ruin everything. After Harry's first year at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had initially thought he should have told Harry everything that was going on. If Harry had known that the elaborate maze leading to the Mirror of Erised had been designed explicitly to trap Quirrell, they might not be faced with Voldemort's return today.

However, early in the summer after Harry's first year, Dumbledore had realized that the tale of the bungled investigation and interference by Harry and his friends, if told properly, made quite a spellbinding and heroic adventure. He spent the rest of that summer putting the story down in manuscript form. He then invited Lockhart to teach in the school the next year to get access to his publishing contacts. That had worked out beyond Dumbledore's wildest expectations. Not only had Lockhart's publisher agreed to review Dumbledore's manuscript, but the incompetent oaf had played a central role in that year's adventure, which made perhaps an even better tale than Harry's first year at Hogwarts.

By Harry's third year, Diagon Publishers had signed Dumbledore to a contract to serialize Harry's years at Hogwarts. He had just finished final edits on the first manuscript, tentatively titled Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Alchemist's Stone. He and Diagon Publishers had agreed to begin the release of the books after Harry graduated from Hogwarts or was killed by Voldemort, whichever came first.

The first completed manuscript had gotten rave reviews from the publishers. More significantly, Dumbledore had gotten a 5000 Galleon advance on the book, and was currently negotiating royalties, merchandizing, and other compensations. The next book covering Harry's second year, Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Heir of Slytherin was undergoing final review and edits, and a draft of the third book titled Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Grim's Secret was nearly complete. This was a gold mine beyond imagining. "Ah well, those silver instruments of mine don't come cheaply," he thought, as he chuckled softly and returned to his desk.

He dipped his quill into his inkbottle, thinking he would start sketching out Harry's fourth year exploits, but he sighed and replaced the quill in its holder. Last year's adventure had nearly resulted in disaster, he thought. He had just barely made it in time to save Harry and his friends, although the story of the battle at the Ministry of Magic would be a real page-turner once he had written it down. The trick was to feed Harry enough clues about what was happening so that he could bumble his way through another thrilling escapade, without letting him find out enough to really act independently of Dumbledore's knowledge.

He was very fond of Harry, after all, and felt a pang of remorse about manipulating him like a puppet. His guilt was tempered by the knowledge that Harry needed to improve his skills for his predestined final confrontation with Voldemort, and all these adventures were certainly developing Harry's magical talents. Observing from the background while Harry faced down dragons, dementors, Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself was not always easy. However, though few realized it, these trials had already resulted in Harry becoming perhaps the most dangerous wizard alive save Dumbledore and Voldemort, and he was not yet at the height of his powers. All that Dumbledore had done was in Harry's best interests after all, he thought, and if he put a few Galleons in his pocket along the way, so much the better. With that comforting thought, he picked up his quill and began writing. He paused, and read what he had written across the top of the sheet of parchment:

Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the TriWizard Tournament by Percival Wulfric.

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