Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself
- Story Summary:
- Harry goes through some er... changes in his Sixth Year and everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice.
- Chapter Summary:
- Harry goes through some, er... changed in his Sixth Year. Everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice...
SEAMUS IS SEAMUS AND YOU ARE YOURSELF 3:
Damn the boy!
Why did this have to happen??! Why?? Have I not been punished enough??! First of all I actually had to put up with Harry Potter actually being bloody alive. When in any other circumstances and if he was anyone else he would have been as dead as a doornail. Then I had to put up with actually teaching the little twerp. And have him break school rules left, right and centre, be particularly rude to me, I might add, and actually get rewarded for it! How is this possibly fair at all?!
I somehow foolishly thought it couldn't get any worse. How wrong could one person be?
Oh, so very, very wrong.
I was sitting at the Staff table at the beginning of Potter's accursed Sixth Year at Hogwarts, (only two more years to go- thank MERLIN...) and had just pasted onto my face my normal welcome-to-another-year-of-me-giving-you- hell scowl when there was a flurry of activity at the back of the hall and students began to enter, all whispering just about the same thing.
"Have you seen Potter?"
Potter. It's always about Potter, isn't it.
He walked into the Hall then, and we all got a good look at him.
It honestly didn't cross my mind that Potter might turn out... how he has done. I should have seen it coming, quite frankly. Lily was very pretty and James- loath as I am to admit it- had most of the girls in the school fawning after him. Everyone says that Potter looks exactly like his father. I don't. Oh, they have the same characteristics, but James's son is on an entirely different level. He is a very different person then either of them were.
He's not like anyone else, in fact.
The reactions of my fellow teachers were. completely pitiful, to say the least. Sprout went bright red on first spotting him. I wasn't completely surprised. Well, what do you expect from a Hufflepuff?
Minerva blinked several times whilst staring at him. She looked shocked more than anything. Dumbledore, of course, had his usual twinkle in his eye. Must he find everything so damn funny?!
Then Smeldon, the new DADA teacher leaned over to me.
"My my..." she said, "now just who is that?"
I mean, honestly. Here was a very attractive, dark-haired and smoky-voiced grown woman asking after a 16-year-old boy.
Again, completely unfair!
The chatter in the Staff room then reached an all-time low. I mean, I know we're not all genius's but we are intelligent people and before... Potter happened the conversations in-between lessons were at least mildly interesting. Not anymore, however.
First of all it was:
Teacher 1: Have you seen Potter this year?
Teacher 2: Yes.
Teacher 1: Yes, indeed. (followed by numerous meaningful glances, nodding of heads and raisings of eyebrows.)
Now it's moved on to:
Teacher 1: Did you see that article on Potter in Witch Weekly? Awful breach of privacy for the poor boy.
Teacher 2: Yes. (pause.) Rather a nice shot of him though, I thought.
Teacher 1: Yes. in fact, I might just keep the article for er... future reference.
Teacher 2: A good idea. Might follow your lead.
Teacher 3: Was there an article about Potter? I might just take a look. (calm tone of voice betrayed by the frantic grabbing of the magazine.)
I mean... honestly.
The damn boy has interrupted the entire school. Teachers and pupils alike, no matter what their sex or age, look at Potter with this bloody hunger that's simply just not right.
Sixth-year Gryffindors and Slytherins are the worst, of course. It's a wonder any of the stupid fools manage to brew anything that even remotely resembles a potion, let alone the right one. They're all too busy staring at Potter. Bloody wonderful Potter. Except me, of course. Did I mention that I'm not attracted to him? No, really. I'm stronger than that. I hate him. I don't want him to...
Damn the boy!
It was quite a shock, I must admit.
I hadn't seen Harry in several months. Hell, I hadn't seen anyone in several months. I was on a job for Dumbledore. I'd exchanged a few letters with Harry, but it had been limited because of the project I'd been involved in.
So I arrived at Remus's house with absolutely no knowledge that my little godson had become a raging sex symbol practically overnight.
Of course I wanted to go and see Harry, but before I went Remus tried to explain it to me.
He sat me down on his sofa.
"Now, Padfoot," he said. "I must warn you that Harry's... changed somewhat."
Icy fear gripped my chest. "What's wrong with him?" I yelped.
"Nothing's wrong," answered Remus, a little half-smile on his lips. "Just that Harry's gone through quite a few physical changes."
I laughed jovially at this. "He's a teenager, Moony!" I said. "Of course he's going to change! What's wrong? Grown a bit? Few spots on his chin? A bit of facial hair?"
"Er..." said Remus.
"Don't worry, Remus," I continued, patting him on the shoulder in a manner that I now know must have been extremely patronising. "It's only Harry, after all."
Moony sighed. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
I went off, shaking my head.
Let me tell you now. I will never ever doubt anything Remus says again in my entire life.
Dumbledore set up a meeting for us. I was grinning expectantly until Harry burst into the room, and then I'm afraid my smile immediately turned into something of an extremely shocked grimace.
"Sirius!" Harry shouted, launching himself at me.
"Harry!" I managed in a strangled sort of tone. "You've got... tall," I finished lamely.
"Oh! Yeah." he blushed slightly, before brightening up. "So, where've you been?"
I was in awe of him. Still am.
And, quite frankly, it's very lucky that I thought of Harry completely platonically as the son I never had before he changed. Otherwise we'd be in a very awkward situation.
The newspaper articles are rather amusing, however.
Fate makes fools of us all. And it's rather fun to watch.