Harry Potter and the Heart of Regenesis

Chapter Nine

The Professor

The last time Harry had seen Hogwarts Castle had been before the battle of Godric's Hollow. When he returned, a hero, from Wales he had been blind and, although he had lived there for the remainder of his 7^th Year he had not been able to see the damage to the beautiful castle that had been so evident to all the other survivors.

When he had regained his sight, during a conversation with Dumbledore on the railway platform, he had looked to the castle only to see crumbling ruins. Even the train had been a rusty pile of scrap iron. The headmaster had urged him to 'believe' and he would be able to see through the anti-muggle charms. It had been possible, almost immediately, for him to 'believe' enough to see the train but this was the first time in seven years that he had been able to see Hogwarts. There was the Memorial Garden on the site of Hagrid's old hut - he had heard about it and the many deadly flora it contained - there was the 'Hannah Abbott Rose Garden' just as Katie had described it, to the side of the castle, right under the Prefect's Room windows - and there were the tall, flag-topped towers. Last time he had been here two of the towers had not been. Both had been almost totally destroyed - torn down by giants in the Battle of Hogwarts, with, of course, the fatal consequences for Madam Trelawney that she had always prophesied. Now, fully restored, the castle looked wonderful. And it was where he now lived and worked.

Maggie saw him looking rather wistfully at the Divination Tower and she asked him if he was remembering Sybill Trelawney. He had to admit that he was - and that, although he had never been her number one fan he had been thinking of her.

"It's called Trelawney Tower, now," she told him. "I'll show you the inside later - that you won't recognise," she added with a look of pride on her face - and she explained that many of the designs and ideas therein had been her own. The other 'new' tower was the Astronomy Tower and Harry could see a difference there already. The top of the tower was now a domed observatory - in contrast to the pointed turrets of all the other towers. He remembered reading in a letter from Sirius long ago that the new telescope it housed was reputed to be one of the most powerful in the world. Harry also remembered being told on several occasions by Professor Sinistra, whilst still at school, that the almost total lack of 'light pollution' around Hogwarts made it the ideal situation for stargazing.

It was almost too much for Harry to take in. He felt every bit as nervous as he had done when he had been just a wide-eyed eleven year old approaching the enormous wooden doors. Back then - he had not come by car but across the lake in a tiny boat with Neville, Ron and Hermione. But, as had happened all those years ago, as soon as Harry stood in front of the doors they swung open and Harry could see the familiar Entrance Hall and staircases. One extra staircase stood out from the rest. It was gleaming metal rather than wooden and, unless he was very much mistaken, it appeared to Harry not to be a staircase at all but an escalator.

"Largest in the world," declared Maggie. "Goes all the way from here to the top of Trelawney Tower. Dumbledore took a bit of persuading to let me put it in but the kids love it," she added. "A bit better than the old ladder, eh?"

Harry nodded his agreement.

"It is a perfectly normal escalator," she continued, "but it has been charmed, of course. It doesn't run on electricity. Well, it wouldn't, at Hogwarts, would it?" she smiled.

Snape obviously did not agree with this piece of 'muggle nonsense' as Harry heard him muttering along those lines as he struggled with the twins up the wooden stairs. They climbed six flights in different directions (including one flight that changed direction while they were on it). Harry waved across at the portrait of the fat lady, which still stood on sentry duty outside the Gryffindor Common Room. She waved back with a cheery smile and gave a loud soprano shriek of delight.

Then they were outside the entrance to the staff quarters corridor. Maggie told Harry that the current password was 'blast-ended skrewts' and as she said the words the doorway again swung open and they were able to enter the corridor. Harry's rooms were quite a way down the corridor on the right hand side. As he reached them he noticed the brass nameplate that was already attached to the heavy wooden door:

Harry Potter.

Defence Against the Dark Arts

He turned the heavy knob and the door opened. After checking he was OK and asking if there was anything else he needed Maggie turned and left, presumably to return to her suite. Harry took a deep breath and entered.

Inside was a plain-ish room with doors leading to three more. The walls were a bland, but fresh looking, magnolia and there were paintings on two of the walls. One was of a countryside scene - vaguely in the style of Constable Harry recognised but, of course, this was a wizard painting. As Harry admired the fields of corn the wind was gently bending the stalks. Then, as he looked at the reflection of a blue but cloudy sky in a large puddle on the country lane, a horse and cart loaded with what looked like cabbages rode by. He was suddenly pleased that wizard paintings only moved - they didn't smell as well! A thin wisp of smoke rose from the front of the cart, presumably from a pipe being endlessly smoked by the driver. Harry thought he'd wait until the cart drove back later to see if he was right.

The other painting was a portrait of a pretty Edwardian lady in a flowing blue silk dress. Harry smiled at her and even said 'hello' but she simply smiled back demurely and regained her posing posture. There was a certain etiquette about being a portrait of which Harry was unaware, never having studied wizard art (it had been mentioned, as it happened, in a particularly long-winded History of Magic lesson with Professor Binns but Harry, as usual in HoM lessons had been doodling on spare parchment at the time) and it stated that female models should not speak to male viewers (and male ones to female viewers, of course) without express permission.

This law had been brought in after a particularly unfortunate incident in 1727 when a young wizard bought a portrait of a beautiful girl. He had spoken to the girl in the painting and she had replied and, before they knew it, the young man had fallen madly in love with her. He tried to trace the artist to find out who the model had been and where she lived but he discovered she had never existed at all and the artist had only ever seen her in a dream. Heartbroken, he returned home and, not wanting to face a future without the only girl he felt he could ever love, he brewed a potion with deadly nightshade flowers and poisoned himself. The law was passed soon afterwards - and named The Bella Donna Law after both the name of the poisonous flower and the girl in the portrait.

Harry looked around the room again. There was a three-piece-suite for him and, presumably, guests to sit on, a nest of occasional tables and - he wondered if they'd done this on purpose for him - a beautiful Welsh Dresser, very much like the one he remembered from his parents' home in Godric's Hollow. It was filled with a very attractive Wedgwood-Blue dinner service and it sported a vase of sweet-smelling flowers in its centre.

There was a bookcase against another wall and it contained a very interesting blend of wizarding books and muggle literature (now, Harry knew his own tastes had been considered for many of his favourite authors were there - Dickens, Adams, Dexter, Rendell and Grant/Naylor to name just a few!).

He opened the first of the three doors - it was the bathroom. There was a free standing white enamel bathtub with gold-finished taps standing on a black and white checkerboard floor, a sink with a very large, gleaming mirror, a shower cubicle and a lavatory. He glanced at his reflection and the mirror, as is the way with wizard mirrors it advised him,

"Looking tired, Mr Potter, sir."

Very polite, Harry thought - in his own opinion he looked dirty, sweaty and rather more than just 'tired'. The tiles were in red and gold, making a fine - even regal - contrast to the pure white of the walls and paintwork. Gryffindor colours, Harry smiled to himself as he closed the door again behind him.

The second door led to a kitchen. Harry could cook (he'd had to fend for himself entirely for the better part of the last year) but didn't really envisage doing much of that particular thing now he was here at Hogwarts. He had imagined himself on many occasions in the last fourteen years sitting up at the staff tables in the Great Hall tucking into the wonderful Hogwarts fare. Now, very soon, he would be doing just that. He checked his watch and realised it was too late for any meals tonight - it was dark outside now and, before checking the final room, which he realised must be the bedroom, he went over to the window, pulled back the curtains and opened it as wide as he could and then he looked outside.

He stepped across to his right to turn out the room lights. Someone had thought to put in a switch. Harry, of course, could not control the lights in the same way all other (living) staff did - by using 'Lumos' and 'Nox'. Although the lights had come on magically as he entered each room and gone off when he left this was part of the lights' own charmed existence and nothing to do with anyone 'operating' the lights per se; therefore they worked for Harry, just as they would have done for Filch or Harry's Uncle Vernon, for that matter.

As Harry thought of Filch, there he was. About five storeys below, walking across the large lawns in front of the castle - still wearing his shabby brown overalls and carrying his trusty lamp - and still followed by Mrs Norris, his ever-faithful cat. Harry had wondered on many occasions just what was the 'truth' about Mrs. Norris. Was she just a cat? Or was she a permanently cursed 'Mrs Filch' condemned to exist in feline form for eternity?

Harry then looked up at the sky - the moon was getting larger; in a few more nights Ron, Remus and all the other werewolves in the world would be spending four uncomfortable, frustrating and - in effect - wasted nights as they first suffered a night of unimaginable sexual tension then the next three as a wolf, hidden away from the world to prevent them being a danger to other creatures and especially to humans. A werewolf attack on another human would condemn the victim, if he survived, to the same fate as the perpetrator. A subsequent complaint against the perpetrator (even if he or she were otherwise a totally law-abiding citizen) would probably result in a death sentence passed by the Department of Magical Creatures. Remus Lupin, as Head of the Department of Part-Human Relations had tried endlessly to have this law repealed but, so far, to no avail.

Below the moon and beneath the stars sat the Forbidden Forest. It had been in there that Harry had experienced many of the most frightening experiences of his young life and it was where he had performed some of his greatest heroic acts. It was there he had fought battles with dark wizards and giant spiders, seen his best friends suffer Cruciatus and watched as many of his fellow students were injured and even died. He thought back to when he had found the dying unicorn with Quirrell/Voldemort drinking its silvery blood. It seemed like lifetimes ago. He had been just a frightened young boy of eleven then. Tomorrow he would stand in front of a class of eleven-year-olds and he was expected to be their teacher. That thought was every bit as frightening right now.

Harry closed the window, switched the light back on and made his way over to the third door. He opened it, entered and found the bed. He didn't even take in the decoration at that time for as he threw himself, still dressed except for his glasses, onto the bed the drapes drew themselves around him and the lights went out. So did Harry's lights. Next thing he knew it was morning.

***************

Harry rose and threw back the drapes to see the rest of his bedroom. Putting on his glasses and focussing anew he saw a room very similar in many ways to the old boys dormitory in which he had spent seven years. There was only one bed but, like his old one, it was a four-poster. Was it the same one, he wondered? 'There was every chance it was,' he smiled. Someone - Dumbledore, he expected - had had great fun decorating this suite! There was a large wooden wardrobe - the kind that, when you were a child, you hoped that Narnia was inside*, a couple of comfortable looking wicker chairs and a large but elegant antique writing desk. Sliding down the front panel of this he saw it was packed with quills, inks and a good supply of quality parchment, dictionaries, thesauri and other useful items like paper clips and sticky tape. He knew he'd be spending a long time sitting at this desk in the years ahead.

On top of a chest of drawers to the other side of the bed sat Hedwig's cage. Hedwig was not in it, however. He had sent her back to Sirius to thank him for the amazing books he'd picked up from Tamara Katz at 'Flourish and Blotts'. No doubt, she'd be back soon - he'd better get some bacon or treats ready, he reminded himself - she'd already sulked at him once this week!

He checked his watch again - 6.30am - he had time for a run before breakfast! He dressed quickly in his vest, shorts and trainers, drank a pint of cold, refreshing water and crept out of his room into the corridor. He didn't expect all the other teachers to even be awake yet - he knew Snape would be, he did most of his essay marking before breakfast while his early morning bad mood was still at its worst! Once at the top of the staircase he lightly jogged down the stairs to start warming up and, as soon as he had passed the Gryffindor entrance again, he found that he even managed to instinctively remember where some of the 'missing steps' were.

As he reached the front doors again they swung open for him once more and he blinked in the early morning sunshine. He sat on the front of the lawn and did some stretches then jogged down towards the Quidditch pitch. He ran around this on the sandy track a few times then jogged back up to the castle, just as he had done so often before. So many more old thoughts flew in and out of his mind as he ran: the roar of the crowd in the now empty stands as a match progressed, Dementors coming out of the sky, Hermione's tight, blue running shorts, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle pretending to be Dementors and meeting his father's ghost in the changing rooms to name just a few.

It was strange, he thought, to suddenly think about the ghost in the changing rooms. He hadn't thought about that for years...it had been in the 'alternate universe' he had created again - yet, although none of that 'world' had ever, really, existed it was all so very real to him. Then he remembered being with Ginny in the same changing rooms and his general good mood threatened to dissipate.

'Don't think about her today,' he admonished himself and, as if to force himself away from that possibility, he returned to thinking about Hermione's shorts. Before long he was also thinking about her running bra as well - and the way the sweat from her running collected in her cleavage and turned the pale grey fabric almost black. He felt incredibly guilty thinking like that about another friend's wife - even if she had been his girlfriend at the time he was remembering - but it was better, he told himself, than the alternative: spending the day moping about his own ruined marriage.

After he completed his warm-down routine on the lawn again Harry stood and walked back into the castle. He made to start up the stairs and heard behind him a high-pitched little voice say,

"Excuse me, professor." Harry wondered which professor must have been in the Entrance Hall at the same time but he declined to look as he wanted to get back to his rooms for a bath before breakfast. He jumped the next three steps and continued upwards. Again the voice piped, more loudly, "Excuse me, professor!" This time Harry stopped and looked around. He couldn't see anyone else apart from the young blond boy at the foot of the stairs, by now some 10 feet or so below him.

"Who are you looking for?" Harry tried to help.

"You, sir!" the boy nodded, his cheeks reddening slightly.

Harry's friendly smile disappeared as his jaw dropped. The merest inkling that the boy was calling him professor had not even begun to think about crossing his mind! Harry started down the steps again towards the boy.

"I'm sorry," he said to him. "Being called professor is going to take some getting used to." The boy smiled back.

"I - I just wanted to say hello, sir," the boy stammered. "My brother talks about you all the time when I'm at home. He knows you. My - my...other brother knew you as well. I'm Christopher." He put out his hand like an old English gentleman. "Chris," he offered. "Chris Creevey"

Harry shook his hand. "Pleased to meet you. Colin was a good friend," he told him. "And Dennis, too," he thought he'd better add. "They're both heroes. What is Dennis doing now?" Harry asked.

"He works at the Ministry. Did you see the Daily Prophet yesterday?" he asked Harry. Harry, of course, had been reading it on the train.

"Yes," he replied. "Why?"

"He was in it," Chris beamed proudly. Harry thought he'd read just about every word in the paper but did not recall seeing Dennis's name anywhere. But before Harry could ask Chris continued: "Dennis was 'spokesman'." He said it like someone announcing the cast in a play.

Now, Harry remembered. There had been that quote from Arthur Weasley's 'spokesman' about muggle artifacts, he recalled - and Dennis must have been that minion. It was enough to make his little brother proud, though and he could imagine young Chris making a scrapbook of photos and cuttings of the deeds of his big brothers. Harry was right. From behind his back Chris Creevey suddenly produced a familiar object. It was Colin's old camera.

"Can I have your photo please, sir?" he asked. Harry smiled and let the flash hit him with more than a hint of déjà vu! In his robes and Gryffindor colours - plus the camera - it could have been little Colin there in front of him once more.

He smiled his way up the stairs for his bath asking himself all the way,

"Professor Potter? Professor Potter???"

********************

* as in the books by CS Lewis

Chapter Ten

The Crown Duels

Washed and brushed up - and in his brand new robes - Harry looked in the mirror and thought he probably looked smarter than he ever had done before. He certainly looked the part - now he just had to control the shaking - and even the mirror seemed to agree:

"The very picture of sartorial elegance," it announced - and it even seemed to nod at him. Harry was not used to mirrors complimenting his appearance and this had the effect of fazing him a bit more. It was almost breakfast time and he didn't want to arrive late so he descended again to the Entrance Hall and walked through the double doors of the Great Hall. He looked up to the magical ceiling; it was a clear day outside so the ceiling was azure blue with a few small, fluffy white clouds here and there. He looked down again. There were the four long tables at which the students sat in their houses: Far right was Hufflepuff, then his old Gryffindor table, Ravenclaw to the left of the centre aisle in which he stood and then farthest left the table at which Slytherin house sat for its meals. The seats were gradually filling up as students wandered in from their dorms.

Harry was aware of the odd student here and there pointing and whispering in his direction as they came in. He'd done the same himself whenever a new member of staff had arrived - especially in mid-term - and he was glad to see Professor Dumbledore at the other end of the aisle waiting for him personally. Harry walked quickly down the aisle and the headmaster formally shook his hand and waved him towards a seat at the staff table.

Dumbledore sat in the very centre with two Heads of House either side of him, in the same formation as the tables were laid out, then the rest of the staff spread out from there in pretty much a random pattern. Harry seemed to remember that, like the students were not given specific seats to sit in but nearly always did sit in the same places, the staff probably did the same. Maggie sat next to Snape, as seemed natural enough. He could see many of his own professors still there: McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout were no longer his professors, though but were his colleagues he tried to remind himself yet again. Then he looked along the line and saw someone he'd managed to forget he was going to see. Charlie - another Weasley! - who had taken over from Hagrid as Professor in Care of Magical Creatures. Charlie did not look too pleased to see his sister's estranged husband and Harry found that he had to think of Hermione's bra again to avoid being sucked into another melancholy. They'd have to come to terms with 'history' at some later date, he thought.

Harry sat next to Maggie as Dumbledore stood to address the school.

"Good Morning, everyone!" his voice boomed across the hall. It was something Harry had always wondered about that, at times, Dumbledore's voice could sound so quiet and weak but, when he needed to, he could silence a riot with a single word. That was what happened now and the students all sat to attention as soon as he raised his hand and spoke. 'Perhaps it was magic,' Harry thought.

"It is my very pleasant duty this fine morning," he continued, "To introduce you to our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. We have tried to keep this appointment secret, so it is of no surprise to me whatsoever that you all seem to know already," he smiled. "May I introduce to you all someone whose name you have all known since infancy? A good friend and a great wizard, Professor Harry Potter."

Warm, and in places thunderous, applause broke out around the Great Hall - possibly less warm and certainly not as thunderous from the table farthest to Harry's right but, nevertheless, he felt well and truly welcomed - and Dumbledore introducing him as a 'great wizard' had made him feel warm right through. He stood to acknowledge the welcome but not to speak - he just waved and smiled - then sat as the applause finally died and the silver dishes suddenly filled with breakfast food. He helped himself to kippers - hot and buttery - and fresh crusty white bread and still had room for bacon and eggs - the first bacon he'd had since Hermione's surprise 'breakfast in bed' 3000 miles and another lifetime away. He wrapped some bacon in a serviette and slipped it into the pocket of his robes - for Hedwig, of course - and downed a second mug of coffee, which, if anything, was even better tasting than first.

Minerva McGonagall came to him as he finished his drink and handed him a small scroll of parchment.

"Thank you, professor," he said to her politely and she smiled.

"It'd better be Minerva from now on, Harry," she said, putting her hand on his arm like a friendly auntie - not that he'd ever had one of those! Harry thought he'd struggle with that directive, though it was only partly in fun that he smiled back weakly,

"Ok. I'll try - professor!" She shook her head in mock despair as she returned to her seat, her lips drawn in that familiar straight line.

He looked at the parchment, wondering for a moment what it was. Then he took off the red ribbon that tied it up and unrolled it. Once opened it he saw that it was his teacher's timetable. Today was a Wednesday - he started with a free period - thank goodness, he sighed - then had 1^st Year Gryffindor and Slytherin together before lunch. It was as he'd remembered the timetable from his student days: the pupils saw him for 1 period per week in Years 1, 2 and 3 in houses (another house paired with them as well), then 2 periods per week in Years 4 and 5 for the combined OWL course (which they could either opt to take or not - some preferring to drop DADA for Arithmancy etc.) and 3 periods per week for the far more intense NEWT course. That gave him 16 periods per week to teach and 4 'free' lessons. One thing he noticed immediately was that the 'paired' classes in the first three years changed from year to year.

He remembered when he had received his letter informing him he was a prefect. When he'd read the names of the prefects in the other houses he had remembered thinking that although he knew the two Hufflepuff prefects from paired Herbology classes he hadn't known Mandy Brocklehurst of Ravenclaw at all. He had got to know her well in later years, of course and she had been one of the students killed by the giants' attack on Hogwarts. Changing the paired houses from year to year would, at least, let all the pupils in the school year meet each other on some level. He thought that, even if his ideas with regards to the Sorting Hat had not worked, some of the changes tried at Hogwarts since his departure had been for the better. He looked once more at the timetable:

Wednesday was his 'lightest' day - 'good start', he thought.

"Right. I have an hour and a bit before my first class arrives. I'd better find my classroom," he said to himself as he made to leave the Great Hall." Little Professor Flitwick heard him, however, and offered to escort him - not because he didn't trust Harry's recollection or sense of direction but because, Harry thought, he probably just wanted a chat

They made their way to where he remembered the Dark Arts classroom to have been. He had been 'taught' there by so many teachers: Quirrell, Lockhart, Lupin, Snape (for one lesson on werewolves), Barty Crouch Jr. masquerading as 'Mad-Eye' Moody, Moody himself, Mrs Figg - even Aberforth 'Dick' Dumbledore for a while. Arabella Figg and her brother Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody had done the job permanently for the last 6 years with great success, working as a 'double-act'. Their in-class duels were the stuff of legend and it was with great reluctance that Dumbledore had accepted their decision to retire at the end of the last school year.

This school year the students had been taught by seven different teachers already, Harry discovered from his old Charms professor. When no suitable applicants for the job had been found Dumbledore had had to arrange 'emergency cover' or accept 'guest aurors' imposed by the Ministry of Magic. The longest any one of these 'teachers' had been at the school was five weeks, however, and Flitwick doubted the students in any year had made more than token progress in the subject since September.

Harry looked around the classroom. It looked exactly as he remembered it except for a considerable array of scorch marks on the side walls near the front of the room. Flitwick saw him looking and said,

"That is some of the evidence from the Moody duels!"

Harry settled himself into the room and took out some hastily scribbled notes for the first lesson. He was nowhere near what he would have liked to called 'prepared' but had decided that he would start the first years off with some very basic curse-blocking. He needn't have worried.

****************

When the Gryffindor and Slytherin pupils arrived Harry saw in front of him an array of excited little faces. Young Chris Creevey was bouncing between the rows telling everyone that his brothers 'knew Professor Potter and that he'd spoken to him that morning and that he'd taken his photo with his brother's camera and that was the brother who fought in the wars with Professor Potter and that was the brother who'd died and...'

Harry stood and the class suddenly went quiet. 'Quietening them will not always be as easy as that,' he couldn't help but think! Even the Slytherins were perched on the edges of their seats waiting for him to speak.

"Good morning," he announced.

"Good morning, Professor Potter," they intoned as one in time-honoured tradition.

"Now," he attempted to start. "This morning we are going to be looking at..." but before he got any further a small hand had gone into the air and underneath it its owner was bouncing up and down impatiently.

"Yes?" he asked the owner. "And what is your name?"

"Crispin St. John sir," the boy told him eagerly.*

"Well, Crispin?" asked Harry. "What can I do for you?" Harry assumed the raven-haired Slytherin wanted permission to visit the toilet. He was wrong.

"Sir! Is it true you could conjure a full Patronus when you were only in third year, sir? And is it true it was a blinding white stag, sir?"

The rest of the lesson passed in a blur as Harry answered question after question about Patronuses, Quidditch ('why aren't you in the Wales team any more' from one of a pair of Gryffindor twins - Ieuan and Geraint Llewellyn), werewolves, vampires and even Lethifolds, of all things.

Harry thought that it wouldn't hurt just this once but he reflected afterwards that he still had to teach his first lesson - and now it would be an OWL lesson. At least the Duelling Club would not be starting until the following week - pupils had to sign up first - so he could relax a bit after the fourth year class.

He spent the next hour determined to concentrate and prepare a proper lesson for the afternoon class but once again, as soon as the lesson started, a flood of questions took up far more time than he had wanted. At least, he felt at the end of that lesson, he'd managed to advance their knowledge of Hinkypunks a little.

*****************

Lessons for the rest of the week were all pretty similar and by Friday afternoon Harry was pretty sick of it. Gilderoy Lockhart might have thought he was in Second Heaven to have pupils wanting to talk about him all day but Harry was not Gilderoy Lockhart.

After the weekend it calmed down a bit although Harry was finding the sea of names and faces very hard to take in. He felt swamped. Some, he could remember - especially those whose surnames were familiar to him and those who, like Chris Creevey, had made a point of introducing themselves because he had been at school with their older siblings.

In two cases, he discovered, he had actually been at school with parents of pupils he now taught! Harry could vaguely remember when, while he was a second year Snape took the Slytherin Quidditch team on a trip to Durmstrang College, the wizarding school in Europe. He had not known all the reasons but he knew the team had returned early in disgrace. Now he discovered that a group of the boys in the team had broken a curfew and attended a wild, Slytherin-style party - these were usually orgies!

The Slytherin captain Marcus Flint and Titus Bole had ended up making two Durmstrang girls pregnant at the party (a fact which had definitely not been known when Dumbledore recalled the team and dealt with the situation). Flint, who as captain was seen as the 'ringleader', was almost expelled (his father had pleaded with the headmaster not to take this action) and was forced to repeat his final year at Hogwarts as punishment. Flint's father felt his son had disgraced the whole family through this ignominy and when the news came out a while later about the child he threatened to disown his son completely. (When, shortly after that, Marcus Flint refused to obey his father's direct command to become a Death Eater the elder Flint felt neither remorse nor did he have any hesitation at all in killing him.) Titus Bole Harry only knew because of an outrageous foul he'd committed on Alicia Spinnet in a Quidditch match. He had hit her in the face with his club claiming he'd thought she was a bludger! Then again, he was stupid enough for that to have just about been a valid excuse...

Now, the two 'offspring' were Hogwarts students themselves! Bartholomew Bole was in the first lesson Harry had taught - a Slytherin, predictably enough - but Darla Flint had somehow found her way into Hufflepuff. It wasn't for Harry to know why the two of them were at Hogwarts at all - rather than at Durmstrang - but he did wonder.

Harry was rather taken with Darla Flint, as it happened. He thought she was one of the sweetest, prettiest young things you could ever hope to meet - with her soft blonde curls, her smooth, unblemished skin and those gorgeous bright blue eyes she looked like she'd walked out of one of the old 'Pears Soap' posters Mrs Figg had had on her kitchen wall. She was not at all like her father who Harry found he still could not picture in his mind without a sneer on his ugly face! She must have got her looks from her mother, he thought!

***************

By the time a full week had gone by Harry found he could go into the classroom and start the lesson almost immediately. As well as his two classes that day he was quite looking forward to the start of the new Duelling Club. A list had been put up in the Entrance Hall the week before and '5^th Year pupils and under' were invited to 'sign up' if they wished to join. There was room for an initial twenty members (which would be whittled down to sixteen eventually) and a promotion/relegation system would be instigated to allow students who missed out on initial selection to get a chance eventually.

Fifty-four pupils in total had 'signed up' and had Harry had sat with Professor Flitwick over the weekend to select the initial group. Harry had really wanted Snape to help him run the club but relations were still a little on the 'edgy' side between the two and Snape had politely declined Harry's request on the, not entirely unreasonable, grounds that he had a lot on his plate already with his Head of House duties, Potions and twins. At least Harry had Snape's original 'blueprint' about setting up the club and how to organise it etc. Having failed to persuade Snape he had turned to Flitwick - another master dueller - and was delighted to have him 'on board'.

From the list of applicants Flitwick rejected thirteen outright as 'trouble' or 'timewasters'. He also thought several more would be there only because of Harry so finding a well-balanced group of twenty and ten reserves was not as difficult and lengthy a task as either had imagined beforehand. The list of the initial club members had been posted in the Entrance Hall on Monday and Harry expected them in the Great Hall that afternoon.

Hogwarts Duelling Club

The following pupils (including the reserves) are to attend the first meeting after school on Wednesday in the Great Hall.

1^st Year

Crispin St. John (S) Christopher Creevey (G)

Jade Crozier (R) Verity Minton (G)

2^nd Year

Effe Akinwande (G) Rosey Rosier (H)

Brenda McLaughlin(S) Tamara Bulstrode (S)

3^rd Year

Toby Ornotoby (H) Jude Crozier (R)

Emily Forsyth (G) Myra Hockaday-Pinhorne (H)

4^th Year

Bishan Dhillon (H) Benjamin Saul (R)

Olivia Hornby (R) Li-Li Leung (H)

5^th Year

Everton Reifer (R) Ezra Forsyth (G)

Tabitha Tait (S) Lara James (G)

Reserves

Benjamin Saul (4R) Ieuan Llewellyn (1G)

Geraint Llewellyn (1G) Kevin Knipe (5S)

Valery Vissa (4S) Darla Flint (1H)

Celeste Aitken (4S) Aiofe Fitzgerald (3R)

Gresta Cleary (1R) Harrietta Hepscott (2R)

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That was it! He thought it looked fair - 6 Gryffindors, 5 Hufflepuffs, 5 Ravenclaws and 4 Slytherin - not too biased - and an equal number of boys and girls. Harry considered swapping Kevin Knipe for Ezra Forsyth just to stop any potential Slytherin whinging but Flitwick asked Harry not to do this

a) because Knipe could be trouble at times and

b) because Ezra Forsyth had already asked that he be included if his sister Emily was. Emily was partly deaf and her brother signed for her.

Harry wondered why he'd never heard of 'magical ears'. They had magical eyes so why not ears? His fellow professor told him that they had been trying to perfect magical ears for decades but, as the ear is also the organ of balance, they had encountered endless problems getting one function to work without it affecting the other.

There were a few names Harry recognised in the list - there was another brother/sister combination, Jude and Jade Crozier - he'd already taught both of those and wondered how their parents coped with names so similar - Tamara Bulstrode was probably the younger sister (or, maybe, cousin) of Millicent, who'd been awarded a 2^nd Class Order of Merlin for her part in the battle at Hogwarts. The name of the 4^th Year Ravenclaw Olivia Hornby seemed to ring a bell with Harry too but he couldn't think why. He wondered if she was part of his 4^th Year OWL DADA - class but he didn't think so. There were only 4 girls in it and, as he'd taught them on his first day, he thought he could recall that none of them were in Ravenclaw. He put it to the back of his mind - it didn't matter. He'd really wanted to include the Welsh twins but he knew that if the youngest Creevey was half as good a dueller as his older brothers he had to be in and there was no way Harry would have got away with including three 1^st Year Gryffindor boys!

Professor Flitwick nominated Everton Reifer as a potential 'club captain'. He was a Ravenclaw prefect, obviously a 'favourite' of his Head of House, and when he was described to Harry as 'the tall Jamaican one with dreadlocks' he realised he'd already seen him walking around the school with his prefect badge on. Harry thought he'd been called 'Marley' but Flitwick laughed and said that that was his nickname - everyone called him Marley, including Dumbledore!

Flitwick also pointed out to Harry that Toby Ornotoby had a nickname as well. He was known by everyone as 'Hamlet', which took a few moments for Harry to 'get' before he laughed out loud again.

"Very clever," he had smiled. Nicknames were obviously 'in fashion' again, he thought. They had been used when his parents were in school - the whole Moony, Padfoot thing - but he struggled to think of anyone in all his years at school who'd regularly been known by anything but their real names. He'd referred to Malfoy as 'Shithead' on many occasions but that wasn't quite the same thing, was it?

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For the first club session Professor Flitwick had invited two of his best NEWT Charms pupils to come to the club and give a duelling demonstration. The Crown brothers were infamous within the school. They reminded Harry of Fred and George - both had red hair (although theirs was curly, not straight - more like Percy than the twins) and it sat atop their heads in a way quite befitting their surname. The elder, Matthew, was a 7^th Year and his bother, Royston, a 6^th and they seemed to be famous (or should that be infamous) for their pranks. Harry had lost all trace of the Marauder's Map after he had left school but he rather hoped that some mavericks like the Crowns had it in their possession now. Maybe he'd ask them one day, he thought to himself?

After Professor Flitwick introduced them the Crown brothers stood, back to back, in the centre of the long strip of navy blue carpet and held their wands, theatrically and vertically from chest to nose. Then, at Harry's command they slowly measured ten paces in opposite directions and turned.

Then - sparks flew! Somersaults were turned. Jinxes were hurled back and forth with frightening speed. Harry realised quite early on in the demonstration that the brothers had all of this routine very carefully choreographed but it was an impressive, entertaining and inventive display and the effect it had on the students was amazing! The young watchers 'ooohed and aaahed' at first then the shrieking started. By the end they were clapping every curse, laughing riotously at the 'jelly-legs jinx'. Finally, the elder Crown hit his brother with a lightening-fast trio of spells,

"Inverso! Rictasempra! Expelliarmus!" and in quick succession Royston looked bewildered, laughed and fell over - his wand flying towards his brother's hand. Then they both stood, shook hands dramatically and turned to face their admiring audience who, in response, stood and clapped until their hands were sore, whooping, hollering and whistling their delight.

Harry, though, wanted to see the pair really duel. He wasn't going to let them get away with their rehearsed 'pantomime'. He decided to take a big chance. As the prolonged applause continued he walked between the pair, raised his hand high and shouted,

"Silencio!" It was an incantation! Harry hoped his gamble would pay off and it did - with immediate effect. A total silence fell and all eyes were on Professor Potter. Then, as he lowered his hand he heard Chris Creevey whisper to Verity,

"Wow! Wandless magic! Dennis said he could do that. Look! He doesn't even bother carrying his wand!"

"Phew!" thought Harry. "That could have been a huge mistake." It hadn't been magic at all he knew - merely respect. But it had worked. The students did not have a clue about his magical inability - quite the contrary once word spread around the school about his 'wandless magic.' He addressed the club members.

"I'm sure we'd all like to thank Matthew and Royston for that excellent display. It won't be long, I'm sure, before you all find yourselves able to do what they just showed us." The club members' faces did not mirror his expectation! "In fact," he continued, "I enjoyed it so much - I'd like to see some more." The crowd clapped and the Crown brothers began to look ever so slightly worried!

"I will whisper three spells to Matthew and Professor Flitwick will whisper three to Royston. They will then use these spells on the other somewhere in the next duel. We'll be able to see how quickly they can learn new spells and also how each of the boys reacts to the surprise attacks."

Harry and Flitwick each took a boy aside as Harry had suggested and then the two brothers, looking rather more nervous now, stood back to back on the carpet once more.

This time, staff and students saw a proper duel. Matthew's first 'new' curse was 'Nephrite suo passus est!' which left his brother doubled up, his hands on his hips as his kidneys suffered what felt like a fast electric shock. Recovering from this sudden pain he sent back 'Reverso!' and Matthew span around looking in completely the opposite direction aiming his next spell at the side wall of the Great Hall. While he was temporarily disoriented Royston aimed a second spell at him which flew across the room in a dazzling purple mist - it looked as though a wizard's cloak filled the air as yellow stars and moons shone on the purple background -then it wrapped itself around Matthew Crown - Harry had never seen a duelling spell like that one before and Flitwick told him later it was the rarely used Merlin's Cloak Charm, incanted with 'Vesto Merlinus'. Matthew thrust the garment aside and hit back at his brother with a series of spells, jinxes and hexes - each of which was responded to expertly by his sibling. His other two 'secrets' were a variation on 'petrificus totalis' in which not every but every other muscle turned to stone - Matthew didn't quite aim this right and only half the muscles of Royston's right leg went to sleep - the other was a good 'Pluvius Imaginaro' which made Royston think he was in a rainstorm. Unfortunately for Matthew his 'Expelliarmus' was slightly too late and was easily dodged by Royston even though he still believed he was soaking wet.

The duel seemed to last a very long time and the brothers seemed to be using a wider and wider repertoire that, this time, truly impressed Harry. Matthew seemed to have forgotten, though, that Royston still had one 'secret' spell up his sleeve and, as they tired and the sweat was pouring from both of them Royston used his third and last direction from Flitwick. It was also a variation on 'Passus' but, in a very tricky manoeuvre - which was almost like wrestling to watch - the younger boy seemed to smile wickedly as he simultaneously scored a direct hit and incanted 'Passus suo testicalus est!'. Matthew writhed on the ground in that particular agony that only boys know while Royston walked up to him, nonchalantly flicked 'Expelliarmus' in his direction and yawned to the audience as he plucked his elder brother's wand from its mid-air hover.

This time even Harry and Flitwick joined in the applause fully. It had been a great spectacle and 'The Crown Duels' became a new chapter in Hogwarts folk-lore. The brothers bowed and soaked up the applause none the worse for their rehearsed or 'ad hoc' performances and they later offered to help the two professors train up the club members.

As none of the children on the club list had much experience of duelling they decided to let all thirty stay for the initial four-week training session. Then after this induction period they were told that the initial twenty would begin a programme of one hundred and ninety duels that would enable everyone in the twenty to duel each other. The bottom four would have to leave the club and the next four would join, just as they had done in Snape's club back in Harry's own 5^th year.

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The next four weeks passed quickly as the club members learned new charms and incantations and practiced them on each other under the watchful eyes of their four tutors. It was hard to get the boys not to succumb to the almost inevitable temptation to inflict pain on each other's testicular regions but they were largely successful in this and after four weeks each student could probably perform at least three good spells and some could do five or six. The older students who were taking OWL DADA's were better again and 'Marley' Reifer was, as Flitwick suspected, by some way the best of all. The club was up and running and Harry felt quite a degree of satisfaction that things were going so well. He had settled into his rooms happily and felt as if he'd been a Professor for a lot longer than a month or so. Professor Potter was already part of the Hogwarts furniture.

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* The name 'St. John' is fairly common in Great Britain, but especially in parts of Scotland. It is occasionally pronounced 'Saint John' but more usually condensed to 'Sinjun'. The latter pronunciation was the one used by Crispin's family.

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