Harry Potter and the New Professor

"Anything off the trolley?" Came the voice of the aging witch that had always been there, offering the wizard candies, ever since their first year at Hogwarts.

"Yes, please," Said Harry Potter, a young youth with a head full of dark hair and a skinny body. He stood up, along with his friends, Hermione and Ron, and they made their selections off the cart full of treats. Harry chuckled as he pulled out some Wizard money, remembering his first year where he had expected Mars Bars and Hershey's chocolate. By now he was used to the strange candies that the Wizarding world had to offer. They were much more exciting than Muggle candies, anyways.

Minutes later, after the witch had left, the three friends sat in their compartment, enjoying all the candies.

"How was your summer?" Harry asked his best friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, as he started on a pumpkin pie.

"Alright," Said Hermione, nothing really happened. Just the usual summer stuff; lie around and watch the telly."

"Oi!" Ron exclaimed as he looked at the trading card that was always inside of the chocolate frog containers, "I got Moody! Cool."

Harry pulled the card from his hand, and looked at it. "I thought you already had Moody," He said.

"No, I didn't even think that there would be a card for Moody."

Harry looked once more at the trading card, even though he knew that Moody was missing from the frame at the moment. He turned the card over and read the back that always had information about the wizard on the fron, and in this case, information about their former Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher.

Alastor Moody, Harry read alud to the other two, an Auror of many years, who filled many prisons at Azkaban. He is now retired, with the exception of one year of employment at Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Many people may know about how Alastor "Mad-Eye" (so called because of his magical eye, that can see through wood, the back of his head, and more importantly, Invisibility cloaks) Moody, is considered paranoid or, for lack of a better word crazy, but he is still very brilliant and still capable of capturing Death Eaters.

"They didn't say anything about how he was used as a disguise to get me to win the tournament, and to Voldemort." Harry noted.

"Probably didn't want to scare anyone," Ron began.

Hermione shuddered and quickly interjected, "Please, Harry, Ron, don't speak about that night. Not again."

Hermione had been having nightmares since that night. What if Harry hadn't survived? What if she had never seen him again? She couldn't bare the thought.

Harry glanced at her strangely, but did not pursue the subject.

"Hey, Harry," Said Ron, tactfully changing the subject, "Did you hear about the Chudley Cannons this summer? They were fantastic. Came damn near to competing in the World Cup, too."

The rest of the ride to Hogwarts was filled with Harry's questions about the Quidditch league, as he had no way to listen to them over the summer, seeing as how, at the Dursley's, he isn't connected to the WWN (the Wizards Wireless Network).

"Ararin, Camille!" Barked Professor Mcgonagall, Transfiguration teacher and head of Gryffindor house.

"HUFFLEPUFF!" The Sorting Hat shouted quickly.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Gryffindors seated at the Gryffindor table, applauded politely for Camille Ararin.

"Ababbin, Thomas!"

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat yelled after much thought.

The Gryffindor house exploded with much applause. Harry glanced up at the table at the head of the hall, where the Professors sat. He saw Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts, and smiled and waved. Hagrid returned it with a jovial wink.

"Beratius, Molly!"

As Molly was sorted into Slytherin, Harry leaned across the table to whisper to Hermione and Ron. "Do you know who that new teacher is? They must be the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Nah," Said Ron as he glanced up at the table, "Never seen 'em before. Dumbledore usually introduces them. Just wait."

After the sorting the Gryffindor table, along with the other three tables, was much fuller, as they always were, but it seemed much quieter than usual.

Hermione and Harry were having trouble putting their finger on it, but Ron knew what it was right away, "The table, in fact the whole hall, is a lot quieter without Fred and George. Isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "It really is. This whole year is gonna be a lot quieter without them. No more Canary Creams." He said with a smile.

Ron grinned back, "Unless, they sneak them into the kitchens. Wouldn't put it past them."

Hermione and Harry grinned. They knew exactly what he meant.

That night Hermione tossed and turned in her sleep. She was having another nightmare.

It was the Triwizard Tournament; it was the third task. She had just heard that Harry was no longer at Hogwarts. He was gone! As well, as Cedric! The cup was actually a portkey. Where had it taken him and Cedric? Hermione saw Dumbledore standing tense and nervous just outside the maze. They waited for forever, waiting for Harry and Cedric to return, Hermione (as well as a few others) with tearstains on her cheeks.

This time, to Hermione's joy, Harry returned. When he had come, he disappeared again, this time to Moody's office. When Harry had come into the hospital wing, Hemione could barely contain herself. Harry... back...not dead...Alive!

When Harry had been out of the hospital room, Hermione did not stop herself this time. She could not. She ran to Harry. She grabbed him, and kissed him. Kissed him for all she was worth. And, to her delight, he returned the kiss; he put his hands tightly on her waist and kissed her back. She had never known anything so wonderful. They kissed each other again, even harder.

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you, too, Hermione."

On the train ride back to the Muggle world, Hermione and Harry had been sitting in the far compartment. Suddenly the door to their compartment had been ripped away. There stood a pale-faced man with snake-like eyes: Lord Voldemort.

He took out his wand and he whispered the words. Whispered those horrible words that he had once used on Harry that had not worked. But this time they did. Harry died, his face flat and unemotional. Then, before Hermione had time to do anything, even before she was able to realize what had just time, he turned to Hermione, whispered the words, "Avada Kedavra."

Hermione awoke with a start, her sheets and her soaked in sweat.

She almost screamed, but she stopped it just in time. So instead, she screamed inside her head.

She can't let that happen; she had to tell him, and soon. If she didn't tell him, he would never know. Something might happen.

"I have to tell him," She told herself. "I have to."

Hermione had had feelings for Harry since the first year, no, before. When she had read the books that had stories of Voldemort's downfall, she felt sorry for The Boy Who Lived.

When she had met him on The Hogwarts Express and found out that they would be in the same year, she was thrilled, but she saw the redheaded Ron Weasley and she had been jealous that he had become friends so easily and so fast with the famous Harry Potter.

When they defeated the mountain troll, and became friends, and stayed friends, she had hoped that it would grow into something more. She wanted it so bad she could taste it.

She wanted that brave, sweet, clever, smart, and handsome Harry Potter. Would she ever have him?

The next morning at breakfast, the students acquired their schedules.

Harry and Ron had finally quit Divination. The smoky room, the predictions of death, even the silvery staircase; they had had enough.

It was all rubbish, anyways.

So, instead, at the endless goading of Hermione, they had finally agreed to take Arithmancy.

"I'm so glad that you're taking Arithmancy! I know that you'll love it!" She exclaimed.

Ron looked down at his schedule again, "Defense Against the Dark Arts is our first class."

"Hey!" Harry said, "I just remembered! Dumbledore never introduced the new teacher to us! I wonder why he didn't."

"Well, we'll get to find out what it is," Ron told him.

He was interrupted from reviewing the rest of their schedule by the morning post. Harry looked down at his plate, finishing his breakfast. He never got anything, anyway.

Hermione smiled when she saw the owl land in front of him.

"Harry," Hermione said as she gently nudged his shoulder. "Harry look."

Harry looked up and saw a large, brown owl sitting on the table in front of him. He saw the school crest on it.

"Hey, you guys," He said as he took a large, brown envelope, "look, I got an owl from someone at the school!"

"Open it, Harry!" Ron and Hermione together encouraged, as they noticed the crest and the envelope.

Dear Harry,

I know that we go to the same school, but this is something I don't want to give you in person. I have not the courage now, although I wish I did.

Maybe when I look at you, I will work up the courage.

Anyways, I just want to tell you that ever since we met, and you learned my name and I learned yours, I have been holding back my feelings, but I cannot anymore (even if you don't know that it's me).

I love you, Harry Potter, and I always will. Maybe someday, you will know who I am.

Sincerely,

A friend who is longing to be something more

"What's it say, Harry? Is it from Sirius?" Ron asked curiously.

"No, it's not from Sirius."

"Let me see it, then," Ron said as Harry didn't proceed to hand it over as he usually did.

"No, I'd rather you didn't."

"Why not, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"It's just...just something private." He said slowly. "Just drop it, okay?"

Hermione and Ron dropped it.

After they had finished breakfast, they headed up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. When they reached it, they had only minutes to go before the bell rang for the start of class. They rushed inside the classroom.

"Good timing!" Said a man with a loud jovial voice. "Better hurry to your seats or you'll be late!"

The three started for the back of the room and sat down in three of the empty desks.

When they had sat down they turned to get a good look at him. A tall, thin man with graying hair, he looked like a very happy man who enjoyed life; A quality rarely seen among the teachers and staff at Hogwarts, due, probably, to the children that they worked with.

After the bell had finished ringing, the man turned to the class and gave them another smile. "Hello, class! You would be...the Gryffindor fifth years, right?"

There was a chorus of yeses from the classroom.

"Ah, good. I will be continuing Professor Lupin's teaching; I am going to teach you more about Dark creatures." He smiled joyfully, "Isn't that fantastic?

"So, you have learned about...about.... ah, here it is," he said as he searched his desk for a piece of parchment and found it hidden a large book entitled The Dark Creatures, Always Know What You're Dealing With. "The Dark Creatures you have learned about at Hogwarts are Red Caps, boggarts, hinkypunks, Kappas, grindylows, and werewolves. Is that right?"

Another chorus of yeses answered him.

Before the teacher could continue, Ron raised his hand. "Um, excuse me, Professor. Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course! Go ahead, ask it."

"Well, what's your name?"

"Oh!" He gave a long, booming laugh. "I completely forgot! My name is Professor Longbottom."

"What?" Screeched Neville Longbottom, a short, pudgy, boy, who was also in their year. "What do you mean?"

"I mean to say that my name is Professor Longbottom. Is that not what I said?"

Since he had not called roll, he must not have realized that Neville's last name was Longbottom, also.

"I know this doesn't have to do with Dark Creatures, but do you have a nephew, or a grandson named Neville?" Neville stammered out.

"I do, indeed. I have a nephew named Neville." Professor Longbottom said, apparently searching his brain with a twisted up thinking face. Then, his face coiled into a curious expression. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh, okay. Just wondering." Neville said quickly.

The whole class knew why he had been asking, but they were surprised with the sudden change when his question was answered affirmative.

"Tomorrow, we are going to start teaching, and, in your case, being taught. I want you all to be ready with information about Dark Creatures. Take some parchment out; I want you to start taking notes.

"The pixie..." He started.

For the rest of the period they took notes on creatures.

When the Gryffindor's had reached the common room that night, Neville had been accosted by several people asking about Professor Longbottom, but Neville refused to tell anyone.

"No, I prefer not to tell anyone," he repeated over and over, although no one seemed to get the message. "Please don't tell him, or anyone else, that I'm his nephew."

'

When they reached Hagrid's hut for Care of Magical Creatures the following morning, the first thing they noticed was that they were still with the Slytherins.

"Hello, Potter." Said Draco Malfoy, a slimy blonde-haired boy, who was closely flanked by his bodyguard-like Slytherin goons, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, with an utter tone of disgust in his voice.

Harry didn't answer him, instead he turned to face Hagrid's hut, hoping that he would be out soon.

"'Ello, class," boomed Hagrid as he emerged from the side of his house dragging a large crate. "I had the luck o' comin' across another Screwt hatching!"

"What?" The fifth years of each house shrieked at the half-giant that must be positively insane.

"Jokin', o'ny jokin'!" He said smiling broadly, "What I actually have is a crate full o' . Since the're highly full o' magical substance, the're used for lots 'o things. Quite dangerous, though." He smiled.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron grinned back. They knew how much it's dangerousness appealed to him. For Hagrid, it was the more dangerous, the more exciting.

"So, for today yer gotta find out what they'll eat; jus' the same as the Skrewts. Remember that when yer older: Always find out what it eats firs'."

So, for the remaining of the class, the fifth years tossed small and large amounts of food in to the crates, staying a good 10 feet from them.

"I thought that Hagrid had gotten over his monster thing. I thought, at least, that he would stop forcing these horrible creatures on us." Ron complained.

"It's better than flobberworms, Ron." Hermione noted irritably. She had just gotten a handful of newt intestines on the knee of her robes.

"I dunno, Hermione. At least the flobberworms were eas-" But Ron was interrupted by a yell from Harry.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione said as she rushed over to where he was. "What happened?"

He shoved his hand in front of her face. "Look what it did, Hermione." She took hold of his arm carefully to look at what he was talking about.

On his arm there was a large cut in his skin. "Oh, Harry. GO to the hospital wing. I'll tell Hagrid."

"Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione stared at his retreating figure for a moment before turning and walking over to Hagrid. "Hagrid, Harry had to go up to the hospital wing."

"Wha'?" Hagrid asked feeling dejected.

Not wanting to make Harry feel bad, she quickly added, "He tripped and fell on a sharp rock. It scraped his arm really badly."

"Oh, that's too bad." Hagrid said, his face brightening.

Hermione smiled, although he wasn't showing it, she knew that Hagrid was sorry for Harry.

At lunch, they met up with Harry at the Gryffindor table.

"How's your arm, Harry?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Good as new. Madam Pomfrey can fix cuts and bruises up like new. Can't even tell that it was there." Harry said happily.

She gently took hold of his arm, her hand tingling as she touched him. She turned his arm over to where the scar had been.

Then she couldn't stand it anymore. Her face carefully lowered closer and closer to his arm. She was going to kiss it. She was drowning in him, in his skin, in his scent, in him.

"Hermione?" Harry's voice broke through her.

"What?" She asked quickly as she snapped back to the reality of Hogwarts.

"No matter how closely you look at my arm, you won't see it."

Thankful for the cover, she quickly said, "I was just wondering how good Madam Pomfrey's wand work is."

"Pretty good, I think."

Hermione looked up at Harry. He had a strange look on his face. She merely smiled.

That night the three were sitting in the Gryffindor common room, Harry looking at the book Flying With the Cannons that he had received from Ron nearly three years ago, Ron finishing up his homework for Arithmancy, and Hermione was reading Hogwarts; A History, once again.

"Hermione," Ron asked her, "why are you reading Hogwarts; A History again?"

"Like you have any grounds you talk on, Ron." She snapped irritably, "You read your Quidditch books over and over again."

"So does Harry!" Ron shot back at her.

"Yes, but Harry didn't ask me the question that you did! He's got more tact than that!"

Their row was more intense than usual, and Harry was becoming slightly worried. The last time she had been like this, she had slapped Malfoy in the face. So, when the two stood up and faced each other, Harry decided that it was time to intervene.

He stepped in front of Hermione and tried to calm her down. He brushed back her hair from her face and to her face told her to calm down. Hermione, distracted by Harry, looked away from Ron, and up at Harry (he had grown bloody tall over the summer). She smiled.

"At least my book is good," he murmured in a barely audible voice.

Hermione snapped her head away from Harry and focused on Ron. Her face pulled into taut and firm new resolve.

"Hermione," Said Harry warningly, "Come on. Calm down."

As she started to move forward, Harry put an arm out in front of her to stop her. It made contact with her stomach, and his hand brushed across her breast. Even though Hermione knew that he hadn't done it on purpose, it still made her blush deeply. She looked up at Harry and saw that he was blushing a deep scarlet color, too.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," He said blushing even deeper.

"I have to go now." Hermione said quickly and ran up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

"Yeah, me too." Harry said running up to his room, also.

That left Ron standing uncomfortably in the common room. Ron had not noticed anything strange. Why had they become so embarrassed and run up the stairs?

"Strange times we live in, strange times." He muttered to himself.

In her room Hermione stepped onto her four-poster and pulled the curtains around her.

She knew Harry hadn't meant to, but it still embarrassed her to think about it. She had wanted something like that, but now that it had happened, it scared her.

She smiled. It was nice to think about.

Harry jumped panting into his bed and, like Hermione, pulled the curtains around him.

Had he really done that? Did Hermione think that he had done that on purpose? How embarrassing!

At breakfast the next day, Harry and Hermione had reached an unspoken agreement: don't mention anything about it.

It was working quite well, actually.

Hermione caught herself staring at Harry a few times. She had to either tell him, or stop it.

She decided to send him an owl that had a clue about who she was. HE was smart enough to figure it out. Maybe.

Dear Harry,

I am upset still with myself that I am writing another anonymous letter, but maybe I will tell you soon. I have, though, decided to write you a riddle. Maybe you can figure it out.

My hair is brown,

My teeth are white,

My first name starts with H.

I go to school at Hogwarts

And I do love you.

I know that those weren't the most obvious of clues, but it's a start.

I love you, Harry. Maybe someday I'll tell you.

With love by the ton,

A love-riddled girl

"Another one," Harry muttered aloud.

"Another what?" Ron asked.

"What?" Harry asked aloud as he drifted out of the letter.

"Another what?" Ron asked.

Ron reached out his hand to grab the letter, but Harry moved his hand away. Hermione smiled as she noticed the last words: A love-riddled girl.

She looked down at her golden plate and finished her eggs.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?" Hermione jumped as Harry spoke her name. "What?"

"Could you help me with something?"

"Um...sure."

"Wait here for just a moment, please?" He asked with such desperation that she could just nod.

Harry ran up to his dormitory and grabbed two pieces of parchment form his trunk. He walked down the stairs and handed them to Hermione.

She carefully took them and read them over. Her eyes widened.

They were the letters she had written.

"Uhn..." An unintelligible sound emerged before she could think of something clever to say. Then she followed it up with, "what do you want me to help you with?"

"Can you figure them out? Like some type of charm that could figure out who wrote them?"

"Well, there is something you can do, it's called Secundus, but I'm sure that the person did the counter spell." Hermione said.

If Harry wasn't so curious, he would marvel at how much Hermione actually did know.

"Can you try it anyways?" He asked.

"Um...sure." She did put the counter spell on, didn't she?

She put her wand tip-down on the paper and said the spell, "Secundus."

The paper began to float, it waved like the ocean and started singing in a voice-that-wasn't-really-a-voice.

"H," it sang, then stopped. "H-E."

"Come on," Harry urged it as he leaned is head closer and closer, "Come on."

"H-E-" then suddenly it stopped.

"Huh?" Harry leaned back with a curious expression on his face. "What happened?"

Hermione shrugged, and as inconspicuously as she could, she put her wand back into her robe pocket. She then proceeded to pick up the paper, appearing to examine it closely. "Maybe they had the counter spell on."

"But then why did it start saying the name?"

"Maybe that's the way the counter spell works, I dunno. I haven't exactly ever used it.

"Um, Harry, would it be alright if I left? I just remembered something I need to look for something in the library."

"Sure. Thanks, Hermione, for helping me." Harry said as she started out the door.

"Anytime," she said airily as she could.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" Hermione thought to herself. "I cannot believe that I didn't put on the counter spell! What if Harry had known it and he had performed the spell? He would know!" She would have to be more careful from now on.

She continued down to the library even though, of course, she hadn't really needed to get anything from the library.

"Oh well, might as well go anyways." She thought, laughing at how predictable she must have become.

Harry stared at her retreating form. Even with those scant clues, he was formulating a plan for who just it might be, and he wasn't sure if he liked it.

The next day at breakfast, Harry thanked Hermione again fro helping him.

"Oh, don't worry about it Harry."

"What did Hermione help you with, Harry?" Ron asked.

"What? Oh, um, my homework." He answered lamely.

"Uh-huh."

They finished the breakfast with no more talking.

The following week after lunch, Harry told Hermione and Ron that he would catch up to them in History of Magic. He had to go do something first.

Harry hurried over to the Ravenclaw table just as Herrandie Malune, a very beautiful girl who was also a fifth year, who had been a social acquaintance, was getting up.

"Um, Herrandie, could I talk to you for a moment?" He asked, his voice sounding bolder than he thought it would.

"Sure, Harry," She said as Herrandie's friends started giggling.

She got up gracefully from the Ravenclaw table and started walking out of the hall with him.

"So, what's up?" She asked as they exited the Great Hall.

"I want to ask you to stop sending those owls with the letters. I don't feel that way about you."

"Harry, what are you talking about?" She asked with a very shocked look on her face.

Harry looked at her face and realized that she was not the one sending the owls. "Um, never mind, forget it." Harry answered, very embarrassed. "See you later!" He turned and ran down the corridor and up the stairs to his History of Magic class.

When Harry burst into the History of Magic room, seconds before the bell rang, his face bright red, Hermione knew that it wasn't from the run up to the class.

"Harry, what happened?"

Harry just shook his handsome head, and Hermione found herself staring at it for a few minutes before pulling her eyes away.

"Now that Miss Granger has been kind enough to give me her attention, instead of talking and staring at Mr. Potter," Professor Binns said in his usual monotone voice, "I would like to tell you about Eugene the Eccentric."

And for the rest of the period they heard they boring stories of an eccentric wizard who lived in France and tried to create as many mouth cleansing spells as he could.

The next few months flew sometimes and crawled others for Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Harry, because he had Quidditch practice probably had the fastest, but then, at times, he would remember the letters. He had received two more. He still had no idea who they had come from.

Hermione was bursting to tell Harry how she felt and that she was the one writing the letters. She had decided to tell him at Christmas. After they had had their feast.

When Christmas vacation rolled around Harry, Hermione, and Ron all put their names down on the list to stay at Hogwarts; they always did.

When Christmas finally came they all three carried their presents down to the common room so they could open them together.

"Wow, Harry!" Hermione and Ron exclaimed together.

To Ron, Harry had found an Ireland National Team (the Leprachauns)

Magical "action figure" of their seeker: Lench.

"I looked all over for Chudley Cannon ones, but I couldn't find any." Harry informed him.

"That's alright, Harry," Ron said.

For Hermione, Harry had gotten a book that was comprised of diaries or journals from several famous wizards. It was called, Wizard's Wisdom, and how it Varies. Harry knew that Hermione would like it.

After all the presents were opened, Hermione commenced reading her new book, while Harry and Ron began to play Gobstones (with their mouth full of Bertie Bott's every flavor beans and fizz cakes, and Chocolate Frogs, of course).

"Harry," Hermione ventured as Ron's bishop viciously hit Harry's knight.

"What?" Said Harry, sounding a bit more irritated than he usually would.

"Um...Never mind." She said as she read the piece of loose paper that she had found inside the book.

To whomever reads this book,

You are holding in your very hands a copy of the book that has the stories of many famous Witches and Wizards, and I urge you to keep it with the upmost caution and security